Round One, Fight!
Posted on Tue Dec 12th, 2017 @ 12:02pm by Lieutenant Cesar De La Fuente
Mission:
Fastest Ship in the Quadrant
Location: Holodeck
1515 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure
The bell dinged loudly, marking the start of the round. With sharp exhale, Cesar hopped up from his little wooden stool in the corner of the boxing ring and hefted his gloved hands up into a lazy guard as he ambled forward towards his opponent. The crowd beyond the ring cheered and jeered loudly, filling the cavernous hall with a din of sound that was hard to ignore even over the pounding of the blood in his chest. He had chosen an earth twentieth century boxing holoprogram and had been fighting his way through the levels, now having arrived in a semi-final in Las Vegas. The holographic crowd looked exactly as they would have in the late twentieth century, right down to the beers in their hands, waving them frantically for the fight to start. It made him smirk slightly, nostalgic. He'd never gotten to see that for real, of course, this was centuries ago, but the Anthropologist inside just couldn't resist contemplating what life must have been like in a different day and age - when the Federation wasn't even a thought in anyone's mind. When life on another world was just a fantasy relegated to science fiction novels and television.
Adjusting his mouthpiece with his tongue, Cesar approached his boxing opponent and tightened his guard just a jab shot forward towards his face, followed by a low hook to his gut that he had to twist to catch on his elbows. It happened so far he hardly had a chance to block, move and then back away, very concerned that he'd exceeded the difficulty level that he could reasonably handle with this program. It seemed as if he'd made it this far easy enough, but this particular opponent seemed far beyond the others by a good stretch. But that was the point right? To challenge him to do better and to have to change his game in order to beat this new fighter? Cesar tried to convince himself of that as he danced just out of reach of the other boxer as he built up his own courage and determination to dance forward again and try to land a few punches of his own before he was overpowered.
This was really the first time in quite a while that Cesar had been able to find the time to use his holodeck rations to come and have a go at this program. It was his favorite by far, but work had just been consuming him of late and leaving him either without the time or without the energy to commit to something as strenuous as this. It had always struck him as odd that such simple and non-physical tasks like the ones he completed on a day to day basis could leave him completely and utterly exhausted. Of course he knew that was just the nature of the human body, mind over matter and all that jazz, but it still frustrated him to no end that even though he hadn't done anything strenuous he was still too exhausted to. All he needed was some motivation though, and having to adjust his uniform size to fit him now was just the motivation he needed to get his lazy bum into the holodeck and knock out that pudge.
That was what Cesar was trying to convince himself. That this was about losing weight, being physically active and not letting a sedentary life in the lab effect his physical being. What he didn't want to think about right now was the same question that had been nagging him since he was a teenage, a question that always lingered at the back of his mind and that had been brought to the forefront, seemingly out of nowhere by the stinking Marshall that just couldn't leave him the hell alone. Hadn't he done enough proving to Starfleet and the Federation that he was a law abiding citizen only trying to better himself and the knowledge of the Federation by serving Starfleet and committing to research for the betterment of all? Hadn't he earned a little bit of peace?
The day had started like any other; cup of coffee, quick bite to eat and to the lab to check on the experiments he'd set to work the day before and left in the hands of the other shifts. Some of the experiments were quick, others would span months but they all did their fair share to keep them going and in documenting. He had just sat down at his desk to go over duty rosters and make some adjustments for Ensign Weatherby who was having false contractions as well as Petty Officer Daval who was still working through the last bits of Pon'Farr with his wife. But before he could even draw up their duty rosters on the screen, he received an incoming message from Ops listed as: Federation Security. Curious, he engaged the transmission and found himself face to face with Federation Deputy Marshall Robert Gibbons; a face he was all too familiar with. Cesar immediately locked down.
What followed was nearly a half an hour of questions whereby the Marshall showed him several pictures, communication logs and other 'evidence' he claimed were from Cesar's eldest brother Hector. Never mind that Cesar had explained to Gibbons that he hadn't seen his brother since the incident that made him a fugitive from the law, that stop the man from pressing him as if he were keeping some deep dark secret he'd never dared share. It was maddening, but not the first time this had happened though it had been more frequent in the last year. From what he could tell, Federation Security had run to the end of its chain so many times trying to find Hector that they'd finally tasked Gibbons with the job. Cesar had never heard of him before but after their first encounter on Jupiter Station when the Marshall had cornered him and threatened to arrest him for obstruction if he didn't comply with his 'interrogation', De La Fuente had done his research on the man and discovered his reputation as a legendary tracker. Clearly the Federation thought that this particular Marshall would be the one to crack the case.
Cesar had to admit, despite the fact that he hated seeing his face more than anything he could think of, the man had made clear progress on tracking Hector through the Federation; far more than anyone else had. Maybe that's what stuck with Cesar the most, the fact that in thirty four years no one had actually seen Hector let alone secured a picture of him, but Gibbons had managed both just narrowly missing making the grab on his brother and having to settle for a grainy, distant photo. Regardless, Gibbons seemed convinced that Cesar had something to do with his brother's penchant for avoiding capture for the last three decades, despite the fact that he was ten when his brother had escaped, hence the latest in a string of calls to 'question' him on the latest things he'd found. But once more, Cesar had nothing to offer.
Juking to the side, his mind distracted, Cesar was too slow and took the right cross square to the chin and was spun around stumbling. He managed to get his feet just in time to duck the assault from the left but got pinned on the ropes and immediately drew his guards up as the holographic boxer pummeled him against the ropes for what seemed like an eternity before the referee forced them apart. Heaving for breath and more than a little sore, Cesar stepped off the ropes and stepped up to get ready for the next charge. He was mad now, letting the memory of Gibbons as well as his own distraction rile him up and was ready to finish this fight and move on. The referee made sure they were set, and then freed them to fight again. De La Fuente moved up ready to pounce, jabbed right and hit glove and then moved to hit to the gut with the left and move his opponents guard but as he drew his left hand away he felt a dull sensation encompass the entire front of his face followed by blinking stars in his eyes and the curiously strange feeling of wanting to move but being unable to - particularly since he was falling backward and didn't seem to be able to muster anything to arrest his momentum.
De La Fuente hit the mat hard on his back, arms splayed and stared up at the venue's huge display over the ring and distantly heard the crowd roaring for his opponent. Distantly he knew he'd lost but he was having trouble sending that signal to the rest of his body and in the end he decided to just lay there. Finally he managed to say, "Computer. End simulation." and was returned to the cold hard floor of the holosuite, still heaving for breath as the last of the stars winked out of his eyes.
