Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Posted on Sun May 26th, 2024 @ 12:28pm by Commander Lorut Vila & Lieutenant Commander Ukram Gocx & Lieutenant Rowena "Rena" Campbell & Crewman Recruit Candice Kayne & Lieutenant Commander Frasier Greene & Lieutenant Scott Jones & Lieutenant Roaa & Xavier X-1 & Lieutenant Callan Armidale & Lieutenant JG Kaydren Aukai & Lieutenant JG Sairal Ardas Etes Yas & Ensign Aaron Soong & Petty Officer 3rd Class Brix Saad & Lieutenant Sardeek & Christine Graham

4,276 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: Home Sweet Home
Location: City Central Park
Timeline: Shore Leave day 3

Most people took time OFF on Shore Leave, but Vila wasn't most people. She wasn't just the XO, she was also alone, and had no friends here, so she didn't really have "plans" for the remaining few days of Shore Leave.

She'd decided that it was a good time for team-building exercises. The Captain was away, she was in charge, they were on a skeleton crew, and she was still on a little bit of a happiness high from her "date" the night before.

She called the crew together to meet her in the local park (OR ELSE) dressed for PT and headed there herself to set up. Perhaps a game of Bajoran stick ball. It might appear strange to the others, but she was a big fan of the sport, and of physical activity that wasn't running. She herself was wearing a pair of black leggings, sneakers, and a Baseball tunic that read "Bajor" on the front and "Lorut" on the back. At her previous posting, she'd actually organized a team, and they played weekly via holoprogram with other ships. It had been a LOT of fun and she missed it. Her brown hair was pulled back and she wore a ball cap, backward.

She set up her gear and sat back to wait.

Callan wasn’t sure what, exactly, PT meant to the commander. From running shorts to hiking gear and anything in between. Considering the weather of the day, he decided to go with a pair of athletic pants with compression shorts beneath and a t-shirt. He gathered his belongings along with shorts in case the commander decided on a slog around the park.

He hated sweating. More, he hated sweating for no reason. If he really wanted, he would spend time in the gym, but this was vacation - and apparently an order.

’It’s good,’ he thought, less time thinking about how to get near STaX and Jonah. Give it a rest.’

He packed his daily rations and water packs up and sling his pack over his shoulder. The cooler lavender skies weren’t as bright as the blue skies over other M-class planets, but he grabbed his sunnies nonetheless.

Scott had been looking for more opportunities to socialise with the crew, it couldn't all be dancing, drinking and what not, and this was just as good an event as any. Guessing it was some kind of physical activity, Scott rocked up in his usual gym attire, black shorts that were tight in all the correct places, a loose fitting black tank top that dropped at the sides, so much so you could see right through if you stood at the right angle and a pair of running shoes. With him though, slung over one shoulder was a small black backpack loaded with some essentials, water, snacks, a hat and sunglasses all ready to go.

As he approached the group he gave a small wave and began to look for some friendly faces.

Brix had been the one to realize that Vila wasn’t taking the crew hiking in the park, whose biggest amenity was a baseball field. It wasn’t exactly science. Strolling up with her full baseball uniform- right down to the cleats, had and bat, her jersey emblazoned with a rainbow stripe on each sleeve, sported the moniker Intrepiders. “My mitt is in my pack, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet,” she said with a bit of attitude.

Looking at the Ops guy and the new fighter pilot, she suggested , you may want to dress in something appropriate for a baseball game. I think they have some cheap replicators around the corner.

Brix liked shaming the boys. “Nice day for a game,” she said. “Bajoran stick ball or the more classic baseball?” Brix asked.

Vila smiled. "You look nice. You won't need the mitt, but you're more than welcome to use yours if you'd like," she said. "I replicated enough. Classic baseball. Stickball is for the birds," the XO replied. "We're still waiting on a few more folks. Gentlemen, as the lady said, if you want to change, you have time to do so, but you're dressed fine," she said.

Just then, Lieutenant Commander Ukram Gocx showed up, sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. "Ah, baseball," the Klingon said. "It's been a while but I think I can remember it," he said. He nodded. Baseball wasn't a sport he'd bothered much with, seeing it as a "peasant" sport, but he wasn't keen on annoying the XO today, so he kept his mouth shut. "Do you need help with setting up, ma'am?" He asked.

Vila eyeballed the Klingon. "Sure, thanks," she said, standing up. "All I need to do is make sure the bases are secure, really," she said. She jerked her right thumb over her shoulder to indicate the bag of supplies she'd hauled along with her. "In there are some vests," she said, "In case we want to team up, but I thought it'd just be a scrimmage style thing," she explained.

Roaa, not being overly familiar with sports, despite some of his friends over the years trying to get him involved, walked into the park. Spotting Lorut, he walked over and said "Excuse me Commander is this where we are supposed to be practicing sports ball?"

Vila turned her attention to the Counselor. "Yes," she said. "It's a game from Sol that became popular on Bajor via DS9, and Captain Benjamin Sisko's influences there," she said. "Plus, my ex-husband was a fan," she said. In truth, Vila hadn't played since her divorce, but she did miss it, and now was as good of a time as any. She was feeling...odd. Must be something in the air. Or the man who just turned up. She wasn't sure.

The group wasn't hard to miss as Frasier Greene arrived and cut a direct line to the crowd. Similarly, he'd opted to wear sneakers, black shorts, a loose t-shirt, cap, and dark glasses. Glancing around the pitch he tried not to groan - baseball of all the sports. He didn't understand the rules and swung the bat feebly as if swatting flies. Still, catching sight of Vila and Scott already present and suitably dressed for the occasion Frasier was game to join in.

"Doc," Vila said, as she began to walk towards Home Base. "We'll do a quick overview soon; just waiting for a few more folks. Want to help Gocx get the supplies out?" She said.

"Sure," Frasier answered with a nod at her shirt. "You certainly look like the part, I know jack about baseball so go easy on me," he winked then recalled the dark glasses he was wearing.

Vila chuckled. "I won't," she said. "I don't go easy on people. But don't worry, it's not complicated," she said.

"Right," the Doctor nodded slowly not believing her assurance but moved off to aid Gocx all the same.

“Come on,” Aaron whined as he pulled along an unwilling android. “This will give us an in with the crew. We almost never do anything with them, and they need to acknowledge we’re here.” Aaron grunted defiantly as he continued to struggle with Xavier.

"I am still not happy with your behavior the other day. I get that he was cute. Hot even. But he said no. And I know you're trying to help, but dragging me along against my will is not helping."

“You’re still stuck on that?” Aaron asked as he stopped pulling Xavier’s wrist. “That was two days ago and neither of us has seen him since. He’s probably forgotten all about it by now. I mean, he must be up for a challenge, he’s after the hetero doctor. Ho…hum,” Aaron finished.

“I was bored with the topic exactly 0.97 seconds after I closed my door the other night. Do you need a diagnostic routine? Are you stuck in some kind of consciousness loop?” Aaron asked, suddenly and actually concerned.

"I Do. Not. Need. A. Diagnostic." The android replied. "I like you Aaron, I do. But sometimes...never mind, let's just forget about it."

As Aaron took up a seat in the bleachers, he thought, “Who knew androids were so moody?” Maybe later, he would fiddle with Xavier’s emotions or, better yet, remove the memory of the proposition. Under the auspices of checking his systems, of course. Either way, the game was ruined for him.

Xavier was unable to read Aaron's mind and unaware of his plans, sat down prepared to watch the game. He had done enough research to at least be aware of the rules.

Kaydren and Sardeek showed up, probably last in the group. Neither of them was up for team-building exercises. Kaydren’s sentient tree seemed off and Sardeek just wanted to find a place to roost. If it was allowed, both would have turned down the invitation.

Instead, they moved up into the uncomfortable metal seat and were left wondering whom they were designed for. Even the humans shifted from one gluteal muscle to the other.

“Um,” Kaydren said as Gocx laid down a large white tile, “Go teams!” He guessed someone had won the tile that was placed in the red clay.

From below, Vila began to issue "instructions." "Jones, take first base. Gocx, you're pitching. Fraiser, go stand in right field," she said, pointing to a general area. "Armidale, take second. Roaa? Third base. Rena? You're first at bat. Since we don't have enough for a full team, we'll rotate batting. After Rena, Harrington can go, then we'll all rotate one space to the right," she said. "Brix, can you catch? If not, you'll trade with me," she said.

Brix gave Lorut the long side eye. “Commander, I brought my own baseball mitt, yeah, I think I can catch a ball,” she answered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

"Get into spots now," she said. She turned her head upward. "YOU FOUR. Get your butts down here. You can be bat and ball people. Pass out supplies as they're needed. This is all hands," she said.

“Friggin’ terrific! We’ve been recruited to case balls and offer water to the players. I’m a scientist, not a ball boy, lady!” Kaydren yelled grumpily at Vila. He didn’t give a long turd off a low branch if she didn’t like him. This wasn’t fun!

Vila's eyes narrowed. "Do as you wish, but when shore leave is over, if you find yourself on lower decks duty, you know why," she said, simply. "Cleaning out the poop filters in the CetOps pool will be plenty of fun for "a scientist", I am sure," she said.

Looking at his chronometer, he saw that it was almost 2 pm. “Hey, if youse three others don’t wanna ‘play baseball’, there’s a music show starting now not too far a walk from here.”

Sardeek considered his options. Chasing white balls used in sport by others or use his auditory senses at an in-the-park concert.”

“This is pretty lame,” Aaron admitted as he followed Kaydren and Sardeek. “This is our shore leave. Let them chase their own balls.” He laughed at the immature joke, but so did Kaydren.

"Did you have something in mind you'd rather do instead?" Xavier replied a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips."

“Don’t I always?” Aaron responded. He didn’t really have anything in mind, except for a few fractal computations.

Also, a major shield modification that might assist a starship from suffering major damage as the Shrike had done to renamed Enterprise-G. When she was the Titan-A, the Shrike had used its tractor beam to “throw a ship”, the Mariposa ship Elios

So far, that endeavor was failing. It seemed that the laws of physics could not be overcome in this matter. Still, the computation ran, always, as a subroutine. Perhaps he might ask Xavier for assistance after whatever Xavier thought he thought Aaron was planning came to its end goal.

“Okay, we are off.” Aaron held his hand out for Xavier to hold. The android had not been happy with the suggestion of a threesome and it would not hurt him to be a bit more gentle and polite to Xavier.

Xavier wanted to continue to be mad at Aaron, but he couldn't. He took the other's hand and entwined their fingers together.

“Alright,” Aaron said agreeably. “We’re out of here.”

"I am right behind you," the android declared.

Under their orders the group moved into the given locations, Frasier among them wondering what was about to transpire and wither he'd bought enough medical remedies should someone take a tumble or other injury.

"Pitcher. Go," Vila called out from her position at third base.

Callan watched as the others who decided not to play walked away from the baseball field. In all honesty, he wished he had made a similar decision, but now he was stuck at second base. The plate where most of the action would happen.

’ Great,’ Callan thought, ’put the uncoordinated queer in the most important position on the field…mint!’

Scott headed to first base, he was somewhat familiar with versions of this game and looked over to a worried crew mate, Callan he figured, one base over, "Don't worry," he shouted over, "I got you covered for things this side." He winked. "I'll make sure you know I'm throwing things your way and will be hot on your heels if anything comes this way."

Callan looked at the man they had been introduced to as their new fighter pilot. Looked at his jawline, strong cheekbones, and noticeably overall good looks. ’ Married,’ the thought scraped across his mind, once like steel armor. Now it was little more than a few scraps hastily nailed together.

Marriage would have been nice…once, a long time ago and so far away. Callan was tired of the endless hunt for Jonah. Useless, wasteful, never yielding if he was dead or alive. Dead most certainly, for their romance lasted longer than their marriage. All the time he was cautious because he was a Starfleet spook. A shade. A thought in the wind.

If he was alive, he didn’t want to be found. And he never would be. If he was dead, the story remained unchanged.

And so when Scott Jones reached out, Callan decided to reach back. Maybe he was alone too? Maybe he just needed to hear someone reach back. And then those eyes, a teal so deep, like the blue holes in the Outback, wary of danger but dying of thirst.

“Um, thanks mate! I’ll help out on the third base side. Not sure, but the Counselor probably looks the same as me,” Callan called back, holding back his thicker Oz accent - perhaps for another day. A cautious first foray.

Rena shook her head. She was an uncoordinated klutz, but she was determined to try. She recognized that Vila was making an effort-no matter how strange it might be-and she'd participate to assist the woman. She was pleased. She stepped up to the plate, trying to remember the things her brothers had tried to teach her when they were kids. Just relax, try not to overthink it. When the ball gets close, swing! Easy enough for Ronny to say. Still, she tapped the wooden bat against the plate, like she knew what she was doing. "Let's go!!" her version of trash-talking wasn't very...trash.

Gocx chuckled at the Counselor. "I am not going to go easy on you, Lieutenant," he said. He wound up, sending a flip changeup down the field to the woman. A small crack, but the ball didn't go far.

Rena just smiled and swung at the ball when it was a few feet in front of her face. With a loud *thwack*, the wood connected to the ball and she took off, headed for first base with all the speed she could muster. She was, admittedly, out of shape and a little bit rotund, but managed to make it to the base without too much difficulty. The air was different here, though, than it was on the Intrepid, and she took a few shallow breaths to recover.

"NICE!" came Vila's voice as the ball was caught and returned to Gocx.

“We’ve got a man on first,” Cal announced. “So if we’re going round the bases counterclockwise, I suppose I’m up next! Truth be told, I’d rather be getting my ass handed to me at rugby or cricket,” the Australian announced. Baseball was a dead pastime, let alone for an Australian, where it had rarely been played when it was popular.

Callan ran in and tossed his mitt on the bench, picking up the wooden bat, he was certain to make a fool of himself. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got and I’ll do my best, Doctor!”

Frasier watched as the next person stepped up to bat and glanced at his Klingon colleague wondering how would it be until he threw the ball with some real vigour. Maybe he'd save that delight for Frasier's time.

Gocx smiled at Callan. "We can arrange that for tomorrow!" He said. He was actually impressed that the XO had arranged this, and was doing it with some kind of grace. She seemed to be...enjoying herself, even. WEIRD. Since Callan wasn't Rena-more sporty and a larger person-he wasn't going to go as easy as he had before, though he hadn't given the Counselor a pass, either. He wound up and sent a knuckleball down the center with such force that he could HEAR it. Oops. Maybe he got TOO excited. Sometimes, he forgot his strength.

Callan swung, but it was already too late, the ball whiffed and the baseball slammed into the catcher’s mitt. The man pulled off the mitt and shook his hand and his head.

“Alright,” Cal said, smacking the plate and preparing for the next pitch. “This can’t be that hard,” he whispered to himself. “The bloody Americans invented the game.”

“Let’s go again!” Cal shouted at Gocx. “Try not to break your catcher’s fingers this time.”

"Sounds like there's going to be double duty at this rate," Greene muttered after Callan's comment and the look of discomfort on the other player's face as he shook his mitted hand.

Ukram wound up again, deciding a flip shot down the middle might help the Aussie. He released the ball, and let it go.

Callan winged it as the ball skittered through the grass. He was just starting to round first when somebody called it a “fowl ball”. He had no idea what birds had to do with the game, but apparently, it meant the ball had run past the white line - making it out of play and a second “strike”.

Cal returned to the home base for what he hoped would be his final strike. ’Stupid bloody game,’ he groused on his own head. Outwardly, he appeared ready to swing again and keep up the game. ’ Just one more swing and you can go back to being bored in the mid-position - the one between second and third.’ He didn’t understand that concept either. Why was there no one between first and second? “Bloody American nonsense,” he muttered aloud.

Looking up, he shouted at Gocx, “One last time, right, mate?” Cal had no idea he could hit “foul balls” almost indefinitely. “Just an easy lob, eh?”

Gocx simply shrugged, and, after a windup, tossed a slow knuckleball. "You can hit this!" He said, trying to sound encouraging. An old, giant Klingon trying to sound encouraging, however, just sounded silly.

Cal closed his eyes and swung with all he had…

“You’re out!” called the crewman who was umpire. Callan wanted to chuck his bat, but the next person was already waiting for their turn. Instead, he gave a tight smile and placed the bat back against the fence and picked up his mitt.

“Stupid bloody, American game. Bet not one of them knows cricket,” he muttered, though, in truth, even he wasn’t sure about the point of cricket. He just remembered his dad watching it and telling him when he was very young that he could be a cricketer.

Later, when it turned out he was rather small, his dad gave up hope on him being a cricketer, or rugby player. Cal was terrible at football and, when his dad was around, he pretended to be bad at surfing. It wasn’t until his dad lost interest in making him a surfer that Cal decided he could quit the show and became quite good at it.

It was something he shared with Jonah, who was good at anything and everything. Jonah would have hit that ball to a home run, or whatever they called it. “Bugger Jonah,” he muttered before laughing. He had, more than once.

"Brix," Vila shouted. "You're up," she said, watching the Orion get ready. "Good try, Callan," she said. "You'll figure it out. Gocx," she said, with a certain tone to her voice. "Knock it off."

Brix stepped up to the plate, reached down and wiped home base off with her gloved hand. She moved then to choose a bat and decided based on the weight and swing. Brix smiled to herself, she was no amateur, she had played on a team at the Academy. Most boys there underestimated her. She knew Gocx would do the same.

She moved back to the plate and tapped the end of the bat on the plate before hiking it up over her shoulder and lifted her elbow. “Let’s go, old man!” she shouted. “You probably need a breather by now!”

Gocx shook his head. The Bajoran on one end, up his ass about the Aussie? No. It wasn't his fault that the Humans had no clue about things sometimes! He smiled at Brix. He wouldn't go easy on her, but he wouldn't do to her what he'd just done for Callan. "Alright. Are you ready?" The Klingon asked, winding up to toss a four-seam fastball to the batter.

Brix smiled as she watched the fastball come right down the line. She choked up on the bat, tightened her grip and swung. “Your momma name you Gocx because it was the first thing she said when she saw your busted Klingon mug?” she asked teasingly.

With a crack the ball went sailing up into the afternoon sky and Brix tore off around the bases, almost positive no one was going to make it far enough out to the fence to catch it.

As she rounded second, she saw the ball land on the other side of the fence and still roll a distance in the grass.

’Let’s see any of the boys beat that!’ she thought as she strolled down the third base line and touched it with her toe. “That’s right! I beat Gocx’s pitch!” Brix announced before dancing a little on the plate.

A round of applause went up as Brix hit Gocx's ball and she and Rena rounded the bases. "Excellent!! Ok, score is ladies-2, males, 0. I guess that means that Jones-you're up!!" Vila barked out. She'd go next-a good flow of female-male-female, etc etc would work well.

Greene had watched the ball soar over heard with awe how Brix was able to it so surely when Callan could not. Hearing Scott being called forward next Frasier shouted encouragement

"Jones, you're up," Vila's voice called out. "I'll go after you. Brix, get ready to round home," she said. "Gocx, stop your shit," she said. His change-ups to psych people out were obnoxious.

Gocx glared at the Bajoran, but shook his head. "What?" He asked. He knew he'd probably just put himself on the woman's shit list, but he didn't care. She reminded him a little of his ex-wife-the same sort of passion but the same sort of "don't cross me or else" going on. He did appreciate it, usually, and her attitude didn't bother him-he recognized it was a coping mechanism, albeit a poor one.

Vila raised an eyebrow, letting him know it wasn't over, but she didn't say anything further as the next person stepped up to bat.

After Jones was finished, it was Vila's turn, to wrap up the game. She stepped up to bat, changing places with Rena, who'd managed to steal home plate and score a point for the ladies. She focused, remembering the tips that her ex-husband had taught her, and from her various pick-up games throughout her life. Baseball had become sacred on Bajor, and it was one tradition she could get behind.

She tipped her ball cap back so she could see-she must be sweaty and smeary but she didn't care. She made eye contact with Gocx, and practically dared him to give it his all.

The Klingon wound up, and fired a forkball at the Bajoran. Still, she counted, and connected, sending Brix to home base, and herself, too. The final score was 3-1 in favor of the women. She was happy.

"Alright!! Good game, people. Who's up for some lunch and drinks?" she called out, as they all gathered their things, and Vila had them returned to her temporary quarters at the local hotel/hostel/villa.

 

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