Killing Two Birds

Posted on Sat Aug 15th, 2026 @ 6:06pm by Lieutenant JG Luke Beaumont & Lieutenant Commander Maximo (Max) Vero & Lieutenant Vireya Talvaren

1,714 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Season 1 Episode 2: The Garden at the Edge of Night
Location: Security gym

ON:

Max walked into the gym looking for some information. He spotted the chief, She looked to be not breaking a sweat doing something that he would find probably difficult.

"Vi, if you have a minute can you help me with something?"

Vireya finished the movement before letting the resistance bar settle back into place with a soft mechanical click. What had looked effortless from the doorway had required rather more concentration than her expression suggested, though only the faint colour high in her cheeks betrayed it.

She caught sight of Max and smiled, reaching for the towel she had left over one shoulder.

“Of course.”

A quick pass of the towel across the back of her neck, then she turned towards him properly.

“What do you need?”

“Booking in for weapons recertifications, starfleet command,” he said waving his PADD but he didn’t get to say anything further as ….

The thunderous crash of heavy weights striking the deck, followed by a triumphant roar, cut through the conversation between the two senior officers. Across the gym, Luke Beaumont stood over the barbell, chest heaving and every muscle taut with exertion. Having completed his final repetition, he released the two-hundred-kilogram deadlift, letting the bar crash onto the reinforced deck before pumping a fist and bellowing in exhilaration at the hard-earned victory over the weight.

Max's mouth dropped. That man could bench him. He looked at Vi a mixture of being impressed and amused.

"Can you lift that much?" he asked her waving the gentleman over.

Vireya looked from the loaded bar to Max, then back again, one eyebrow lifting.

“No,” she said, entirely untroubled by the admission.

She rolled one shoulder, still loose from her own workout, and gave the weight another considering glance.

“I could probably move it. Lifting it properly is another matter.”

A small smile tugged at her mouth.

“I’m built more for speed, balance and leverage. If I need to deal with someone who can lift two hundred kilos, I’d much rather use those against him than compete with him.”

"Max Vero, XO," he shoved his hand out to the giant.

"Luke Beaumont" the taller man smiled down at the first officer who was almost a foot shorter than he.

"I'm looking for someone to help me drop 11lb and get the doctors off my back. Can you give me any advice Lieutenant?" he asked letting his red headed colleague take his PADD and look over the required re-certifications and new weapons Starfleet command were insisting he now undertake. Now they apparently deemed him safe to do so.

"I can help with the lifting," he said cheerfully, a grin spreading across his face. "And cardio," he added with a playful nod. "Can't forget the cardio."

“I don’t think I’m a lifting kind of guy. I’ll leave that to you. Let's talk cardio,” Max said. “Can you suggest a programme?”

Vireya let her eyes travel briefly over Luke as Max spoke. At six-foot-seven with that much muscle across his shoulders, arms and chest, the man was difficult not to notice. There was real power there too, not the decorative sort built for mirrors, and the two-hundred-kilo barbell on the deck had already proved it.

She gave Luke an appreciative little nod before looking back to Max.

“He certainly looks qualified.”

There was warmth in it rather than teasing. Vireya had spent too many years around training rooms to dismiss what that kind of strength took to build. Still, size had never impressed her quite as much as what someone could actually do with it.

“Just don’t let him convince you bigger is automatically better,” she added, smiling. “Strength has its uses. So do speed, balance, endurance and knowing when not to stand directly in front of something that weighs twice as much as you.”

Her gaze dropped to the PADD again.

“And don’t sentence yourself to an hour on a treadmill every day. You’ll hate the gym before you’ve lost the first pound. Intervals would probably suit you better, something short enough that you don’t get bored and hard enough to actually work. Swimming too, if you enjoy it.”

She glanced back at Max, her expression softening.

“Eleven pounds really isn’t much. You don’t need to make yourself miserable getting rid of it.”

“I do want to drop the little weight but ….” Max said his voice lower for a moment. “I think truthfully I need a routine. So that when I finish work for the day, stop thinking about work, I’m not just thinking about everything else …Si?” He said honestly. Luke probably had no idea but she knew he was talking about everything he had lost in time.

“Perhaps there’s an exercise class, meet some new people socially at the same time?”

"Sure. I'm sure some of the civvies will want classes and things like that," Luke added, his tone thoughtful for all of a moment.

His attention drifted back towards the barbell he'd just finished deadlifting, still resting heavily on the gym floor. His eyes lingered on the weights, a faint, almost whimsical smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the memory of the lift returned to him.

"But me?" he continued, giving a small shrug. "I think I'd stick to the weights."

There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice. Teaching might have been his sister's calling, but Luke had clearly found his own.

“Congratulations Lieutenant,” Max said an idea filling him, “ I want you, under the watchful eye of the chief of course to head up organising an array of classes for crew and civvies. And make sure to set up a weights one too. Come see me when those are up and running and we will decide what’s best for me and circulate everything to the whole ship,” Max said. He was giving a younger officer an ideal chance to prove his abilities.

The assignment had caught him completely off guard. His commanding officer and the ship's first officer had tasked him with establishing and leading a civilian fitness-outreach program aboard the Genesis—a responsibility he'd never anticipated and felt wholly unprepared for. The weight of it pressed down on him now, and he could feel cold beads of sweat forming on his brow at the thought of what lay ahead.

“Now Vi,” Max said turning back to the security chief. “Can we schedule all these exams I need to re certify in? I imagine I will need you to go through the weapons with me, as well …. For the changes.”

Vireya looked down at the PADD properly now, scrolling through the list Starfleet had attached to his recertification requirements. There were more than a few additions since the last time Max had been expected to qualify on anything, and some of the terminology alone would probably need translating from ninety-seven years of weapons development.

“Absolutely, but we’re not starting on the range.”

She looked up at him, warm rather than stern.

“You know how to handle a weapon. I’m not questioning that. These just aren’t your weapons yet.”

Her thumb moved further down the list.

“We’ll do the theory first. Current phaser systems, settings, safeties, what’s changed and what Starfleet now expects you to know. Then I’ll take you through the hardware itself so you can pull one apart, put it back together and understand what it’s doing before anybody asks you to fire it.”

A small smile touched her mouth.

“After that, we go to the range and get the actual certifications out of the way. I’d much rather spend an extra hour teaching you than discover which century’s muscle memory wins while you’re holding a live phaser.”

She handed the PADD back.

“I’ll get it scheduled. We’ll take it a piece at a time.”

Max nodded. It sounded a hell of a lot.

"Excellent. Grazia Vi grazia. I look out for your appointments," he said.

"And for you're visit with the class schedules," he said to Luke. "I get out of your hair now, Ciao," he said over his shoulder as he left.

Vireya watched Max go, still faintly amused by the amount of work he had managed to leave behind in what had begun as a simple question.

Then she looked back at Luke.

Up close, the sheer size of him was even more apparent. Six-foot-seven and built across the shoulders like someone had designed him specifically to make gym equipment nervous. She could appreciate the view well enough. There was nothing wrong with muscle, particularly when it came attached to the discipline required to build it.

She nodded towards the abandoned barbell.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you to stop doing that.”

A smile tugged at her mouth.

“Just remember when you put the classes together that most people aren’t trying to become you. Give them somewhere to start without frightening them back out of the gym.”

Her gaze travelled briefly over his frame again before returning to his face.

“And all that muscle is wonderful right up until Security needs you through a maintenance hatch.”

The smile widened.

“Then I’m sending someone smaller.”

Luke's eyes darted away as he began removing the weights from the barbell, his movements deliberate but tense. It wasn't just the memory that unsettled him—it was everything converging at once. The ship's first officer had assigned him to establish and lead a civilian program, a responsibility that made his stomach tighten. Speaking in public. The very thought sent a chill through him.

*Oh god, Sis... I wish you were here,* he thought, the words a silent plea as he worked through the weights. She'd always known how to calm him down, how to make the prospect of addressing a crowd seem less terrifying.

Across the gym, Lieutenant Talvaren caught his eye, and Luke managed a sheepish smile in return. He wasn't sure how to act around his commanding officer—around women in general, really, aside from his sister. His attention remained fractured between the barbell and the weight of responsibilities he didn't feel ready to carry.

END

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