Wrong Turn (Sean)

[m]

A beeping, buzzing sound…
Eyes open.
Back aches. Stretch, Sit up. Push blankets off.
Stand. Stretch again and yawn.
Lights come on, forcing eyes to blink.
Music plays. It’s the Four Season…

Walk like a maaaaan, fast as you caaaan…

Humming along to the tune, the man who woke makes his way into the bathroom for his morning ritual. Waking up at five in the morning was a walk in the park for one Captain Michael Clarke. The first thing he did everyday was get up, stretch, and listen to the Four Seasons. There was something cool and lyrical in the music even though it was ancient. Even when he was a boy that stuff was old.

A twenty minute shower commenced. Washing thoroughly every inch of his body, Mike continued to hum and whistle along to the tune. He felt this was going to be a good day. He knew it was going to be a good. NOTHING would go wrong today. He had faith in this crew. Sure the last little while had been bumpy but that didn’t mean things couldn’t turn around right? Right…

Even though Mike wasn’t a real optimist, he decided it was best to try and look on the bright side, if not for his sake then for the crews. It was very easy to go crazy out in space when depressed.

These thoughts continued on while Mike went on to wash again, thoroughly covering every inch of his body with soap and then with a sanitizer he’d gotten during his last visit on Earth.

He’d seen his little Sandy then. She was as pretty as ever. Her ninth birthday and that idiot Step-father of hers had gotten her a bike. Mike laughed out loud at the thought. A bike? His princess didn’t need bikes. She liked dolls and dress-ups. Didn’t the man know what a little girl liked? Apparently not.

The fine porcelain doll Mike had gotten for her was much more appreciated he was sure. Yes, it was true, it didn’t have as much play value but Sandy liked pretty things…

Pausing in his ritual, Mike thought about that for a moment. He remembered as he left the birthday party and bid Halley goodbye Sandy was on the bike learning how to work the safety petals. The image made his heart pang a little bit, but he forced the emotions down and started scrubbing at his fingernails.

Forty minutes later, Mike was combed, brushed, zipped, and laced into his uniform. He looked at himself in the mirror, appraising every little thing. He had to look perfect not because he was vain but because as long as he looked in control his crew would believe he was in control.

He had to keep control in order to maintain order. And order would bring peace. He was sure of it.

Big girls don’t cry! Big girls don’t cry!

“Music off.” Mike said, his tone direct. Everything about him was direct but not harsh. None could say Mike was a harsh leader, although he wasn’t above holding someone accountable for their actions.

With one final look over and a check to make sure he had a bundle of moist towlets in his pocket, he walked over to the door. His hand reached out to touch the metal pad but his jaw tenses as he looked at it.

Who else touched that? It was only him right? Yes he was sure. The cleaners didn’t come through until Wednesday.

With a little force, he brushed the metal with his fingertips and the door opened. Then he headed out into the hall, intending to head to Flight Deck.

Listening to his shoes tap on the floor as he walked, he added a slight bounce to his step, walking in rhythem to the music that had just been playing in his cabin.

Although he didn’t sing out loud (of course) the music moved through his mind and Mike couldn’t help but walk to the beat of ‘Walk like a Man.’

Walk like a maaaaan fast as I caaaaan Walk like a man from YOOOOUUU.

Turning a corridor, Mike realized he’d gotten lost in his thoughts and looked around. His calm and merely demeanor instantly melted away as he looked around.

This wasn’t Flight Deck. This was… the Gym?

Darn it. He must have taken a wrong turn at some point. This was not like him at all. How embarrassing.

He looked around quickly, hoping no one noticed the Captain getting lost in his own ship...

[karen5]

The mess hall had served as a good getaway from the crew and their nattering thoughts at first, but Sean had to admit that, while it had worked before, it wasn't exactly ideal. The sleeping quarters were definitely out, since there was almost always people there. Medical Bay, the Science Laboratory, Engineering and Tactical were all far too busy to be of much use to him. As for the flight deck, there was always at least one pilot there, so it was ruled out, too.

This left him with the gym, which, actually, was the most reasonable place to have started. After all, when music didn't help, physical activity did, and there was no better place to be active on a ship than in the gym.

And so, with his retro-headphones up and the treadmill set on high, Sean managed to relax his mind by straining his body. Sprinting wasn't something he was particularly fond of, but being in space like this, even with the gravity on board, made it feel abnormally good to stretch his legs.

Half-an-hour on the machine left him feeling calm and ready to face another day with the crew, and so he went to take a quick shower in the locker-room, throwing on his clothes before heading out to make his way up to the mess hall for some breakfast.

He was just about to turn the corner when he felt a nearby-figure's confused, then chagrined thoughts, seeing the gym door in his mind. It was the Captain, it would seem, and after politely pushing the man's thoughts aside Sean turned around and meandered back to where Clarke stood, looking a little perplexed.

"Good morning," Sean said cheerfully, saluting his commanding officer. As always, the Captain looked fresh and crisp, ready for duty. Admittedly, he made Sean feel a little out of place, what with him being in his casual clothes, but let it slide. No need to get worked up over his wardrobe, of all things.

Clarke still looked a little lost, and so Sean said in what he hoped wasn't a sardonic voice, "You all right, there, sir? Do you need help with anything?"

[m]

Turning suddenly to see Sean Irvine walking towards him, Mike resumed his smile and he stood erect. As the man gave the appropriate salute Mike touched his own fingers to his forehead in return and nodded.

“Good Morning.” He said with a slight wave in front of him as if he were brushing away all strict formalities between them. Even though proper respect was owed between the ranks Mike wasn’t the type of Captain to expect complete subordination all the time. Especially in such places as a Gym.

Mike actually never came here. He could practically feel the place crawling with microorganisms. So he made sure to keep away from the walls and any machinery as he shifted a little on the balls of his feet and arched an eyebrow.

“No Sir, but thank you.” He hesitated before going on, “I see you’ve been taking advantage of our crew work out facility.” Stating the obvious, he knew, but he needed to find a way to get out of this situation and make it seem like her had every intention of being there.

“I just dropped by for a quick look around. I understand the machinery is…first-rate.”

He’d had trouble coming up with a word for the machines. They were not at all like the ones he had in his private quarters. Those were all sterilized (by himself) once a week and good for cardio.

He wondered suddenly why the man would ask if he could help him. It was an odd request seeming as Mike wasn’t the sort to go looking for help. He rarely took it even when he did need it. He was the Captain after all. Wasn’t it his job to be helping everyone else.

Studying Sean carefully he remembered the man always being somewhat odd. Wasn’t there something about him that was different? Mike tried to remember what he’d been told.

[karen5]

Clarke brushed away the offer for help almost immediately, seeming almost insulted. Sean smirked a little, but managed to pass it off and a friendly smile. "Just a little workout to keep on top," he agreed with a nod, reaching up to run a hand through the mess of hair atop his head, still wet from his shower.

The way the Captain was talking about the equipment made it sound almost as if he were unimpressed by it. It was decent equipment, practically top of the line, though Sean had to admit that knowing that others' sweaty hands had gripped the treadmill bar and such wasn't exactly the most lovely tidbit of information to have.

Quite abruptly Clarke's expression become suspicious, and he eyed Sean as if trying to remember something. Unobtrusively, Sean opened the floodgate to his Captain's thoughts, realizing that he was merely wondering why he was offering help, and what exactly he did around the ship.

Laughing a little, Sean closed his mind again. "I'm the ship's telepath, sir. The reason I offered you help is because you look a little lost. But, I suppose being offered directions in your own ship would be a little degrading for a Captain."

[m]

Mike was first surprised but then he remembered this being the case and laughed. “Oh yes. That’s right.” He cleared his voice and nodded, placing his hands behind his back. “I got lost in my own thoughts I’m afraid. We’re nearing New Earth and I’m starting to feel the urgency of it all. I’d like to prepare the crew but I’m not sure how they’re feeling considering our past… failure.” He considered Mission 001 a disaster due to the amount of lost lives. Not to mention the fact that R4 was on their tail. Luckily he wasn’t the sort of captain to get stressed out.

Or at least that’s what he told himself. He did get stressed, and it showed in the fact that his OCD was getting worse by the day.

“Would it be completely unethical to ask you what the general opinion of the crew was on the up incoming mission?”