Gym Time
Posted on Sun Apr 12th, 2026 @ 5:15am by Lieutenant Yvette Beauvoir & Lieutenant Ezra Van Wijnbergen & Lieutenant JG Nia Saral
Edited on on Tue Apr 14th, 2026 @ 6:00pm
1,988 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Episode 3 - The One Who Got Away
Location: Holodeck 5 - Deck 6 - USS Artemis
Timeline: MD001 0815 hrs
Yvette tapped her comm. "Lieutenant Saral, this in Lieutenant Beauvoir, please join me for a training exercise in the gym, in 5 minutes."
There was a brief moment of silence as Nia Saral processed the instruction...and tried to work out if there was any connotation to attach to it. "On my way," the reply sounded calm. Indeed, it didn't take the half-Cardassian long to arrive at the gym. She wore her uniform, with no visual clue that she had pulled it on so hurriedly that she had been doing the jacket up in the turbolift. Her long, black hair was braided into a simple plait, a few wisps having come free around her face.
"Thank you, for being prompt, Lieutenant Saral." Yvette said. "Now let's test your CQC skills."
Ezra was already there when they had arrived, his first time visiting the Artemis' athletic facilities. The smell throughout the gym was almost a tangy-salty mixture created from sweat and energy drinks.
He stood in the corner nearest the exit, stripped down to a dark sleeveless compression shirt and loose training pants rolled at the ankle. His broad shoulders caught the light through streaks of sweat running in small paths along his arms. A pair of heavy kettlebells rested before him, their surfaces sharp and angled as though having been recently replicated.
Ezra's movements were economical in a way that could draw an eye or two--not showing off, nor competing--but simply working. Each swing was slow and patient like a bell being rung underwater. He exhaled steadily through his nose, maintaining control.
When Yvette's voice carried across the gym, Ezra didn't look up immediately. He lowered the weight to the floor with a gentle thud, stretched his neck, feeling the blood pumping through him.
Yvette could feel Ezra's presence. Due to her training and experience in both Intelligence and security, she had learned to be mindful of her surroundings.
"Please excuse me Lieutenant. I'll be right back." Yvette said and headed over to Ezra.
"Bonjour, can I help you with something?" She asked the man.
Ezra wiped the back of his wrist across his forehead, a semicircular line of sweat smearing into his hairline. He turned toward the voice, his dark eyes catching the overhead lighting.
"Hi," he replied, his breath still settling. His deep voice carried a worn-in warmth. "No trouble. Just trying to get a sense of the place--I didn't mean to intrude."
"I hope that goes well for you, I'm Yvette Beauvoir, by the way." Yvette said visually analysing the man.
Ezra set the kettlebell down carefully, allowing it to thud against the rubberized floor. He straightened, the dark sleeveless compression shirt pulling taut across his broad shoulders. His stance was grounded, feet planted like the thick roots of a birch tree.
He lifted a large hand, careful not to overreach, and extended it toward her. "I've heard of you," he said, his deep baritone voice resonating. "Lieutenant Beauvoir. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Thank you." Yvette said. "Now, let me guess, you're built like a line backer, but you're not in Security, there's a kindness in your eyes, make's me think counselor, but there's something more, like you know what it is to be a victim, so I'd say you're out victim advocate."
He glanced past her for a second, to where Lieutenant Saral stood waiting. Then he looked back at Yvette.
"I know I don't usually look the part of a Victim Advocate. Even a counselor," he said, his voice staying low. "People always expect someone smaller. Or someone who looks less like they'd throw a punch."
Ezra paused, then added gently: "I try not to."
He studied Yvette for a moment, running the back of his arm across his sweaty forehead. "You're in security, then?"
"Yes." Yvette said. "I'm also the XO of the ESU." She added. "Well, they say not to judge a book by its cover."
"That they do," he added, nodding. He glanced over at Saral then back to Yvette. "Are you leading a training program of some kind?"
"Yes, the Lieutenant is new to the Unit, and I'm testing her fighting prowess." Yvette replied.
Ezra's brow rose a fraction. "Fighting prowess?"
"Yes, If she is going to protect herself or others, she needs to be able to do so, even without a weapon." Yvette said. "I use my own martial art, taking parts from several Human, Vulcan/Romulan and, Klingon fighting disciplines."
Ezra took a half-step closer to Yvette, though being very careful not to crowd her. "That sounds intense," he said. "Very practical--and I can respect that. You're not just teaching technique. Essentially, it's about survival."
His eyes flicked over to Saral, who was standing rigidly with an unreadable expression. "I'd love to watch--with your permission."
"I'm fine with that, but I'll have to ask the Lieutenant." Yvette said.
Nia Saral watched the exchange with a measured expression. She understood Yvette's drive. It was true, to be able to defend others, you had to first defend yourself. But in all honesty, that was where combat began and ended for the half-Cardassian. She valued conflict resolution without the conflict. And one day, she hoped to advocate and implement security teams that were trained in more nuanced de-escalation, without the phasers. But...she trained in martial arts. It suited her need to defend casualties and maintain self-control. And her cool head gave her a good, steady aim. She gave a slight, half shrug. "If it pleases."
Yvette stood facing Saral and took up a defensive stance. "Okay, Lieutenant Saral, when you're ready attack me."
Nia took a brief moment to flick her gaze over the officer, taking in her stance, her weight distribution, even her expression. It only took the blink of an eye though before she moved forward to attack. The way Nia fought very much reflected her personality. Efficient, economical. It was substance over style and, considering her slim but athletic build, she brought a surprising strength as she pushed forward to trip and throw her to the ground.
Yvette was surprised by the Lieutenant's strength, but compensated, and managed to keep her balance and push Nia back.
"Great work, you are stronger than you appear." Yvette said.
Ezra stayed where he was, just off to the side, hands resting loosely at his hips. He could still feel the heat coming off his skin in little waves. He watched the way Saral moved--how her center stayed low and how she committed without any flourish.
"Better that than the other way around," Nia replied lightly, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips with the wry comment. She decided to change her approach, although it wasn't a conscious decision, more an instinct. She pushed herself into a half turn, as if trying to move past her...but instead of dodging past, she brought her arm around with the movement, jabbing it out at waist height to strike at the other woman's side.
"Great feint, Lieutenant." Yvette said.
Nia hopped back to put distance between them again, another instinct that had been developed over years of defence work. She kept light on her feet though, in case Yvette launched into an attack, but her shoulders remained remarkably relaxed. It reflected who she was as an officer...never defaulted to violence, but was ready for it all the same. "I prefer to keep things simple wherever possible. There's usually enough to think about."
"Simple is good." Yvette said. "It makes it easier to become second nature."
Ezra stayed still, feet planted lightly on the rubberized floor. He recalled the old gyms back on Earth at the Academy and how antiseptic they felt despite the sweat and liniment always hovering in the air. Amateur boxing was something he'd enjoyed in his younger days but no more. His association with the sport was of adjacent interest these days. Though, he could still remember the old routine: jab, cross, hook, pivot, step, repeat. None of it was as elegant as Yvette's blended styles.
"Keep your stance low," he said gently to Nia. "Balance comes first. The lower your center, the more leverage you have for a push or a pivot."
Nia kept her fists lifted in a guard even as she glanced across to Ezra with curiosity, perhaps even amusement, at his suggestion. She did it all the same though, allowing her knees to bend a little more, settling into the position before arching an eyebrow to him in question as to whether it was what he meant.
Yvette smiled at Ezra. "Good form, Lieutenant Wijnbergen, maybe I should hire you to help train my people." She said.
"If I only had the energy," he chuckled, gently rubbing his left deltoid muscle. "I'm afraid my body is catching up with my age."
"Have you tried therapeutic massage?" Yvette asked. "If not, I'd be happy to help you." She added.
Ezra nodded, grabbing a clean towel from a nearby shelf and patting his face with it. "I would be grateful to learn."
"I've been sliding on and off of massage tables for a while. Old injuries like broken ribs and torn rotator cuffs tend to come back," he said lifting his arms and wincing slightly.
"I learnt it as part of an undercover mission, when I was in SI." Yvette said. "My customers didn't complain. Shall I come to your quarters?"
Ezra let out a small breath through his nose, a slight smile on his lips as he caught the offer for what it was. There was something about her he couldn't put his finger on--something cold and analytical. He had worked with officers like her before and he had tremendous respect for them. The shape of her ears hinted at potential Vulcan heritage but Ezra could not be certain.
"That's kind of you," he said, his tone easy. He rolled the towel between his palms before slinging it back around his neck. "I didn't realize an Intelligence assignment might lead to physical therapy training."
He had already sized up Yvette and found her to be forthright and honest. Nothing about her offer suggested anything beyond one colleague willing to help another--and he believed it.
"That's very generous of you, Yvette," he said, meeting her pale blue eyes. "I'll definitely take you up on it."
"We have to learn all sorts of things, I had to learn Gorn once, luckily my brother is a linguist and is fluent." Yvette said. At Ezra's agreement, she said. "Good, we'll decide on a time." Giving the man a brief smile.
Ezra let out a soft chuckle at the thought of having to learn Gorn. "We'll talk soon, Yvette."
He glanced over at Nia and offered an encouraging smile. "Keep up the good form, Lieutenant." With one final look back at them, Ezra stepped softly across the floor and into the corridor, his muscles cursing up a storm.
Nia arched an eyebrow as she watched him leave with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. A beat of silence passed between them before she turned her gaze back to Yvette, tilting her head and spreading her hands to either side. "Do I pass?"
"Yes, Lieutenant, but you must continue to train, form tends to fade with lack of use." Yvette said noting to herself not to underestimate Lieutenant Saral again.
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Yvette Beauvoir
Tactical Officer, USS Artemis
Executive Officer, Emergency Services Unit
Starfleet criminal Investigations Unit
Lieutenant Ezra Van Wijnbergen
Victim Advocate Counselor, USS Artemis
Starfleet Criminal Investigations Unit
Lieutenant Junior Grade Nia Saral
Emergency Services Unit Officer, USS Artemis
Starfleet Criminal Investigations Unit
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