Hold Back, Push Forward

Posted on Fri Apr 17th, 2026 @ 7:45pm by Lieutenant Colonel Jesse Moriarty & Tavrek Harland

2,542 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: Gym, USS Guinevere

The hum of the treadmill created a certain noise in the gym, alongside the breathing and sound of shoe-clad feet hitting the ground. Tavrek did not glance at the readout. He never did. It was not speed or distance that mattered, but rhythm. Repetition. The small, deliberate act of continuing, the way he could just breathe...and clear that rise of emotions meditation hadn't silenced. It wasn't anything bad: at one point you just hit a space where you needed to find another release. He was sweating, not much, but enough to show he wasn't completely Vulcan. Neither was his face devoid of emotions...instead he was focused. With a hint of a smile at the sensation in his limbs.

Jesse Moriarty paused momentarily at seeing the man already running. It wasn't someone he recognised though. Certainly not Ground Forces. He moved to the machines, turning the one next to him on and soon his footsteps were matching the other man's.

Tavrek glanced his way, a small smile coming to him at the man matching him. "Running towards or running away from?" he asked, lightly, with no real weight behind to make the man answer.

Moriarty looked across to him with surprise at the words, running his hands through his dark hair to pull it from his face as he ran with ease. "Looks like neither of us are going anywhere...."

"It's what I hate about treadmills...you don't go anywhere," Tavrek observed as he looked ahead, raising an eyebrow. But the smile remained there. "I usually run around the ship but...it's an awkward time with shifts."

"Agreed," Moriarty murmured, shaking his head as he remembered almost colliding with an unappreciative crew member. "Let's hope it's not a metaphor, huh?"

"Oh I doubt it," Tavrek said with a small shake of his head, taking a deeper breath. "I'm Tavrek Harland...Diplomatic department."

"Jesse Moriarty, Ground Forces," he almost offered a hand, but then thought twice as he glanced at the pointed ears. "Does...that make us opposites?"

"Depends how you view it. I am not a diplomat, I am a translation specialist," Tavrek said, recognising the hesitation, the way he glanced at him. "I just translate the words, recognise meaning on the pages...hear the change in the voice. You judge the battlefield...I judge the paper."

"Ah....so you're a comms specialist really," Moriarty replied, as if translating the other man's role into something he could understand in his world.

Tavrek nodded at that, a small smile coming to him. "Just enough to understand. For instance...you sound like you're from a colony," he said and gave a nod. But he hadn't heard enough to pinpoint locations.

Moriarty glanced to him with surprise, but knew he shouldn't be shocked. Colonies often created their own slang and softened accents. "Is it strong?" he asked with curiosity though.

"No," Tavrek said softly before he tilted his head, thinking, even as he still ran. He closed his eyes as he rolled the words in his head. "Border colony..." he frowned suddenly, as he realised. "Not Kentenna, your vowels are too soft. None of the Volans either, you...have a certain twang. Means one of the Independents..." he opened his eyes and let out a breath. "Maybe Salva II, but...I would be more tempted to say Solina."

Moriarty glanced to him with wide eyes, the correct guess making him trip. He grabbed the rail, having to pull his feet up on the sides to recover, catching his breath. "How did you...?"

Tavrek turned his treadmill off and reached out to do the same for Moriarty. "I have an ear," he said before he met his eyes. "And before and during the war, I was doing translations of incoming communications. I got...used to hearing the colony languages, raw and unfiltered by the universal translator."

Moriarty searched his eyes, something inside of him deeply unsettled by that insight. He was used to hiding behind anonymity. Most people didn't know where he came from, not really. Even a few words on a screen didn't give a true understanding of the mess he had come from. But this man had heard it all. "Quite an ear you have."

Tavrek held his eyes for a moment before he nodded. "Of course, I am only a civilian here," he said, bowing his head a little. "And there's many people from many places on a ship."

Jesse nodded lightly as he took a breath, almost as if recovering from the shock. "I'm sure your skills will be invaluable when we meet new races."

"As will yours," Tavrek said as he met his eyes, studying him for a long moment. "Soldier." He wanted to ask if Jesse still remembered the dialects of his colony...if there were words not used anywhere else that he still used. But he kept it quiet for now.

Moriarty straightened with that, letting out a soft breath. He looked to the controls of the machine, but didn't reach out to start it again. "Things will have gone wrong if I'm called out."

"Mm...sometimes, it isn't to fire phasers. It's to be seen," Tavrek said and raised an eyebrow before he met his eyes. "A show of strength can happen without any violence."

"You sound like you speak with experience," Moriarty replied lightly, touching his black vest to his face before rolling a bare arm, as if to make out that he was just stretching rather than needing another moment or two to steady himself from what he had said.

"Not that much experience," he admitted as he watched how Moriarty moved. Like he needed to shift or else he might break. "More...historical recollection."

"Sounds like you experienced the war line for line," Moriarty said quietly, shaking his head as looked to him, his eyes darker with intensity.

"I did not fight," Tavrek said, wanting to make that clear. He stepped off the treadmill, rolling his shoulders. "I translated. It was..." he paused, considering it. "I did think at times it would almost be easier to pick up a weapon."

"You heard it all, word for word," Moriarty replied quietly, understanding well enough. He had been there without being there.

Tavrek met his eyes, giving a nod. "Write it down and pass it on. Hope someone acted on it," he frowned, considering it. "I'm sorry we didn't for your home."

Moriarty's jaw clenched against the emotion that threatened with the words and he looked away. "It was policy," he replied quietly, but the three words didn't seem enough to describe the Federation's decision to leave colonies to the mercy of the Cardassians.

"Policy doesn't make it right," Tavrek said as he watched him before he took a deeper breath. "I'm sorry. We've just met and I am upsetting you."

"No," Moriarty said quickly, shaking his head with a frown at himself, at having allowed it to bleed through. "No, it's not you. It's me, dwelling on the past."

"What usually helps when it gets like that?" Tavrek asked as he looked at him, studying his face. "Running? Sparring? Talking?"

"Sparring," he admitted before giving a light shrug with a weak shrug. "I'm predictable..."

"Okay," Tavrek said and rolled his shoulders, a small smile coming to him. "I do not have much experience, apart from...what my mother taught me. But I am sturdy, so I don't think you'll break anything if you hold back."

Moriarty watched him with surprise, glancing around as if unsure if he'd heard the offer right. "The fighting diplomat?" he chuckled softly, hopping down from the machine.

"Hardly," Tavrek said with a smile, shaking his head before he shrugged. "But I used to do this years ago...and it might be good to be reminded how to defend myself."

"Something I'd encourage everyone to learn," Moriarty admitted, rolling his shoulder as he moved to the mat with him, nodding lightly. Now he was back on familiar ground, his confidence had returned. "Why don't you show me what you were taught."

"Suus Mahna, but I was never very good," Tavrek admitted as he removed his shoes and socks, out of habit, before stepping onto the mat. "Much to my mother's...not disappointment, but she would have preferred if I had been better at that than volleyball."

"You play volleyball?" Moriarty asked with surprise as he kicked his boots off, and was immediately embarrassed at his own bias.

"Yes," Tavrek nodded as he smiled, taking a deeper breath. "My human mother played it. She taught me and started a team on the station I was raised. She was line defense, absolutely vicious the way a human can be..."

"I've only ever played for sheer fun, no rules. You'll have to teach me one day," he chuckled, lifting his hands, bracing himself. He liked any game that worked up a sweat and let him throw things.

"I might try and get a group together," Tavrek said and took a stance as well, watching him. He moved to attack, not fast...he was out of practice, but he wanted to show he remembered the technique.

Moriarty followed his lead, making no move to push him harder or faster, letting him stay in control. He met each move and blow, blocking with the same care he showed. "You're strong," he noticed it immediately.

Tavrek chuckled as he looked at him, eyes shining as he moved with it. "Got more than my ears from my Vulcan side..." he said almost playfully.

Moriarty chuckled, shaking his head as he moved forward, deciding to throw a few strikes his way to see if he could block as well. "There aren't as many in the Ground Forces, but those I've worked with have always been rocks..."

Tavrek's blocking wasn't as good as his attack, but he still did his best based on what he remembered. He smiled at the words, a breath escaping him. "Yes, I suspect...not many Vulcans see the logic in being a soldier."

"Not sure what that says about me then," Moriarty chuckled, but saw the humour in the comment. Besides, he could hardly argue against it, not without diving into moral matters he didn't like to touch with a bargepole.

Tavrek smiled at that, his eyes shining as he looked at him. "Means you are a protector," he said softly, his eyes shining before he stepped into his reach.

Moriarty moved the moment he was close enough, taking a hold of him, his leg coming out to trip and pull him, using his own momentum to pull him off balance. "Sometimes."

Tavrek hit the mat, laughing before he rolled himself up again, standing. "And what do you protect?" he asked, his voice soft.

"This ship...my comrades...people who can't fight," he replied honestly, his eyes sincere as he gave him a moment to resettle.

Tavrek met his eyes, nodding with understanding before he smiled. "You protect me," he said and motioned for him to come at him.

"Although, it appears you can fight," Moriarty pointed out with a soft laugh, approaching and lifting his fists, keeping low as he swung for his side.

Tavrek blocked it, shaking his head as he watched him. "I can...stay alive long enough for you to come rescue me," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

"Safeguard the diplomatic secrets," he chuckled softly, pushing into his arm, testing the strength of it before swiping his leg around.

Tavrek shifted, his time keeping enough of his wits about him to grab onto Moriarty as he lost his balance. He laughed as he fell, even when Moriarty's weight hit him on top. "Don't got any secrets...."

Moriarty laughed softly even as he tried to catch his breath. He braced himself, checking over the man's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he checked with genuine concern.

"Yes," Tavrek assured, looking at him with a warm chuckle. "I am sturdier than I look..." he shifted, slowly, sitting up. "I do bruise though...but this won't leave a mark."

"I'll have to try harder then," he chuckled weakly with mock offence, but offered his hand to help him up.

He laughed as he took the hand, eyes shining. "Maybe you should come at me like you mean it," he said, teasingly, his voice a little lower as he watched Moriarty. "Rather than treat me like the soft civilian..."

"Just trying not to hurt you," Moriarty smiled wryly, arching an eyebrow as he watched him with a shrug. He moved forward all the same, faster though, targeted.

Tavrek saw the change, blocking, but a fraction too slow, breathing harder with it as his eyes narrowed. "Good," he said, at the effort, at the pure skill he saw in the man.

But as the half-Vulcan blocked, Moriarty was already turning, launching into a second attack, his hands striking out at his shoulder to try and weaken his guard.

Tavrek grimaced, eyes narrowing a little as he pushed back, not out of any training but the instinct that most humanoids had. He blocked, but not well, a soft breath pushed from him as he stumbled back.

Moriarty nodded firmly, clapping his hands together with approval. "Good...you'll have strength over most people, use it. Tire them out by bracing, pushing, straining..."

"Are you training me, Jesse Moriarty?" he asked, his eyes shining with it as he smiled. "Making a soldier out of me? A...Trooper?"

"Just a piece of advice," he held his hand up almost in defence. "It's up to you if you heed it or not."

"I am good at taking advice," Tavrek said with a smile, bowing his head in thanks before he looked at him with a playful smile. "Not always good at remembering what it was."

"If I lived as long as a Vulcan, I think I'd start accidentally on purpose forgetting things too," Jesse admitted with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "You're good at this. If you ever want to train, let me know."

Tavrek looked at him with interest before he gave a small smile. "I do," he said, before he chuckled. "And as an exchange...maybe I can make you dinner?"

"Well then, I'm definitely in," Moriarty gestured with a hand, sighing heavily just at the thought. "It's basic when I have to fend for myself."

"It's what the mess and replicator is for...but still," Tavrek said with a small smile, giving a nod as he searched the man's features. "What day and time?"

"Tomorrow...1900?" Moriarty suggested...when there was food on a table up for grabs, he didn't mess around.

Tavrek's smile widened as he watched him, his eyes warm. "Anything you don't eat, Moriarty? And I don't mean allergies...I mean things you don't like, or enjoy."

"No...I will pretty much shove anything in my mouth," Moriarty replied without thinking, and didn't pick up further on it as he set his hands on his hips.

Tavrek looked at him, a small smile curling his lips. "Is that a fact..." he said lightly, eyes sparkling with humour, raising an eyebrow. "I shall keep that in mind."

---


Tavrek Harland
Civilian Translation Specialist
USS Guinevere

Lt. Colonel Jesse Moriarty
CO, Federation Ground Forces
USS Guinevere

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