Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
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Workout With Mariner
“Hey, what’cha doing, Boims?” Mariner asked lying in her bunk.
“Heading to the Gym,” Boimler said wearing a set of sweatbands and casual workout clothes. “Thought I’d start the day with a good cardio session and strength training.”
“Strength training? You?” Mariner looked at him in surprise. “Since when do you voluntarily do anything physically intensive? The heaviest thing your puny muscles usually cart around is a stack of unwieldly data padds.”
“Hey, my muscles aren’t puny!” Boimler protested. “I meet Starfleet’s physical fitness requirements every year.”
“That’s not saying much. I know Elaysians who have stronger bone structure and musculature than you do,” Mariner smirked teasingly. “What, are you trying to get promoted by becoming a pathetic, muscle-obsessed meathead like Ransom?”
“No,” Boimler glared at her. “I just thought it would be a good idea to start improving my body along with my mind. To better physically prepare myself for dealing with future strenuous scenarios. Especially after struggling so much during our encounter with that lost group of Jem’Hadar.”
“I dunno, Boims. For a padd-pushing weasel, I think you handled yourself okay,” Mariner commented. “Hey, how about I join you? I can be your spotter and help guide you through your workout.”
“Na, it’s okay. I wasn’t planning on doing anything real intensive,” Boimler declined. “Just jogging on the treadmills for a few klicks and working out with hand weights…”
“Are you kidding? That’s so lame,” Mariner scolded. “You can do better than just mindlessly running in place without going anywhere. Unless you want your body-building career to mirror your Starfleet one…”
“Well,” Boimler thought for a moment. “Okay, fine. You can come with. Not that I could have stopped you anyway…”
“Alright! That’s the spirit, Boims!” Mariner grinned hopping down from her bunk. “Just give me a minute to change and prepare to feel the burn!”
“As long as we don’t end up being burned,” Boimler moaned. “Which happens way too often if you ask me!”
“C’mon, Boims! Let’s go!” Mariner whooped after swiftly changing into her own sporty workout outfit.
“Yeah, yeah,” Boimler sighed as Mariner dragged him down the corridors. “Hey, this isn’t the way to the Gym.”
“Who said anything about the Gym?” Mariner grinned entering the holodeck. “You can play at getting into shape in there on your own time. Here, I can pick one of my personal programs to make sure we have a real workout!”
“What?!” Boimler yelped. “Oh no! Don’t even think about it!”
“Don’t worry, Boims. We’ll start ya off with something easy,” Mariner smiled. “Computer, load Mariner Program Seventeen.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as they suddenly found themselves inside a vast, dimly lit ice-covered chamber. Both of them were now wearing leg irons and ragged furs while a crowd of tough, similarly-clad alien humanoids mingled around them. “What the? Where are we? What kind of workout program is this?”
“The best kind. A real-life, fully interactive experience,” Mariner grinned cracking her knuckles. “Get ready. The warm-up is pretty simple.”
“I could certainly use a little warming up right now,” Boimler shivered before one particularly hulking alien picked him up from behind. “Ahhh! Hey, let go!”
“Quog wok na pushnat!” The alien bellowed in Boimler’s face.
“Yaaahhh!” Boimler yelled dangling helplessly above the ground. “Ugh, talk about bad breath!”
“Hey, buddy,” Mariner tapped a passing alien on the shoulder. “Sorry about this. Nothing personal.” She immediately punched the alien in the face.
“Tobat uz stax!” The alien howled lunging at her. Mariner easily avoided the blow as her opponent ended up striking a third alien. More aliens quickly joined the fight.
“Alright, now this is more like it!” Mariner grinned as an all-out brawl quickly broke out among the mob. “Sure beats loping along on some wimpy treadmill!”
“Rangnit ascru, unto pram moreoscue shondik!” The hulking alien roared while shaking Boimler like a rag doll.
“Aieaieaieaieaie!” Boimler chattered senselessly.
“Hey, Boims! Get with the program!” Mariner scolded punching out a pair of aliens. “Stop hanging around already!”
“Hanging around is all I can do at the moment!” Boimler cried while trapped in the hulking alien’s grip. He managed to pull his feet up and slam them into the alien’s upper torso.
“Uggghhh!” The hulking alien shrieked in pain. He teetered for a moment before toppling to the ground with a crash.
“Huh?” Boimler gasped dropping like a sack of bricks. He stared at the fallen alien in surprise. “What happened? I just kicked him in the shoulders.”
“You also managed to kick one of his major cardiac clusters,” Mariner said coming over and helping Boimler to his feet. “Not everybody keeps their ventricles in the same place.”
“O-kay,” Boimler blinked. “Now what?”
“Now we use the mob of brawling aliens to cover to our escape,” Mariner said dragging him over to a nearby tunnel. “This riot won’t distract the guards forever.”
“Huh?” Boimler yelped spotting the squad of disruptor-wielding guards perched along the raised collection of scaffoldings. “What the…is this a Klingon penal colony?!”
“Yup,” Mariner confirmed. “I told you I’d take it easy on ya.”
“Are you insane?! What am I saying?!” Boimler yelped. “You consider escaping from a Klingon penal colony easy?”
“Dude, anyone can escape from a Klingon penal colony,” Mariner drawled hustling him down the passageway. “It’s pretty sad, really. Klingon prison facilities have totally gone downhill.”
“Just like my sanity,” Boimler groaned.
“Alright, we’re here,” Mariner stopped in the middle of the passageway and slowly pried open a small metal hatch built into one of the walls. She slithered through it and beckoned Boimler to follow. “Come on, hurry up!”
“Do I have a choice?” Boimler moaned crawling after her.
“You can always stay behind and get caught by the guards,” Mariner quipped closing the hatch. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.” She ripped off a thin metal panel from the wall and handed it to Boimler. “Here, tie this on. You’re gonna need it later.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as Mariner scrounged up another panel for herself. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain later,” Mariner waved tying the panel to her back using some ragged furs. “Right now, it’s time to climb.”
“Climb?” Boimler looked up to see they were standing at the bottom of a deep, narrow crevice. The rim of the fissure towered well over a hundred meters above their heads. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” Mariner said as she began to scale the cold, rocky wall. “What are you waiting for, Boims? Let’s go!”
“Ugh,” Boimler groaned reluctantly scrambling after her. “And I thought bucking for a promotion was a futile exercise.”
“‘Attaway, Boims. Keep it up,” Mariner urged as they continued their ascent. “Work those glutes. Go for the burn!”
“I’d rather go to Sickbay,” Boimler gasped as he struggled to pry himself hand over hand. “Oooo, I can’t feel my fingers!”
“Don’t quit now, Boims. We’re almost there,” Mariner encouraged later as they neared the top of the crevice. They finally reached the rim and dragged themselves over it. “There, so much for the easy part.”
“The easy part?!” Boimler wheezed peering around at the barren, frozen landscape as an icy wind howled about them.
“Yep. This next part is much more strenuous,” Mariner nodded heading off across the snow-covered wasteland. “Use the metal panel I gave you as a shield against the wind.”
“I know what I’d rather be shielded from. Or more like who,” Boimler shivered doing so while following after Mariner. “Brrrr, if Starfleet can make heat shields, why can’t they develop some kind of cold shield too?”
“I don’t know. You can ask Rutherford about it later,” Mariner shrugged plowing on. “Ah, just smell that air! This is much better than running on some lame treadmill like a mindless hamster, right Boims?”
“Are you crazy? What am I saying?” Boimler gasped with his teeth chattering. “That’s it! This is ridiculous! I’m not moving another inch!”
“Too bad,” Mariner said as a series of howls and snarls rose over the wind. “‘Cause it sounds like a pack of wild jackal mastiffs have managed to pick up our scent.”
“A pack of what?!” Boimler glanced back to see a vicious pack of furred animals with sharp claws and wicked, oversized teeth. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”
“Yeah, they’re a real motivator, aren’t they Boims?” Mariner quipped as Boimler immediately broke out into a sprint. “Hey, wait for me!”
“YAAAHHHHHH! HELP! THEY’RE GONNA EAT ME!” Boimler cried running as fast as his shackled legs would allow. “Computer, end program!” The snarling jackal mastiffs continued to pursue them over the frozen tundra. “I SAID COMPUTER, END PROGRAM!”
“Oops, sorry Boims,” Mariner apologized as she caught up with him. “All vocal commands only work for me since I’m usually the only one using this program…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler cried as the howling jackal mastiffs grew closer. “Then what are you waiting for? End the program now!”
“Are you kidding? We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Mariner said picking up her pace. “We only need to cover another two kilometers or so…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler gasped glancing back at the pack of pursuing beasts. “AAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!”
“Alright, this is it,” Mariner announced several minutes later. They had reached the edge of a second, wider crevice. “Good job, Boims. Lie down and take a load off.”
“Thank goodness!” A pale Boimler wheezed collapsing in exhaustion. “I can’t feel my legs…can’t feel my lungs…”
“Eh, that’s just the muscle fatigue setting in. Or frostbite,” Mariner said shrugging off her metal panel. She pried Boimler’s stiff fingers off his own panel before laying him down on it. “Get ready, Boims. Hope your bobsled skills ain’t too rusty.”
“My what?!” Boimler blinked as Mariner quickly tried the two panels together before shoving them dangerously towards the crevice’s edge. “Accckkk, what are you doing?!”
“Working out. What do you think I’m doing?” Mariner quipped plopping down on the front panel. “Here we go!”
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Boimler cried. “DON’T YOU DARE…YAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”
“Yahooo!” Mariner whooped as the two zoomed down the crevice’s steep, icy walls. “Alright! Now this is what I call a workout!”
“HAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!” Boimler screamed as Mariner barely managed to steer them around sharp rocky outcroppings and massive pillars of ice. “HELP! WE’RE BOTH GONNA DIE!”
“Don’t worry, Boims. The holodeck safeties are still on,” Mariner waved. “I think…”
“You think?!” Boimler shrieked.
CRRRAAASSSHHHHHH!
“Aw, over already?” Mariner pouted as the makeshift bobsled reached the bottom of the crevice, plowed through a squad of surprised prison guards and several stacks of empty storage containers before coming to a stop. “Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.”
“Ohhh…” Boimler twitched tumbling off the metal panel. “I think I’m going to be sick…”
“No time for that, Boims. We still need to make our escape,” Mariner said hauling him to his feet. “Darn, looks like we’ll be stealing a shuttle instead of a fighter.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked looking around to see a pair of blocky, freighter-like shuttlecraft sitting within the crevice. “Where did those come from?”
“Supply shuttles. The guards use them to transfer food and prisoners to the surface,” Mariner explained gesturing at their surroundings. “They can’t transport stuff in due to the magnetic shield so they converted this area to a combined cargo and hangar bay.”
“Seriously?” Boimler wheezed. “Then why the heck did you have us run over here through that freezing wasteland instead of through a nice, relatively warm tunnel? There must be at least one connecting this bay to the main prison.”
“Because we would’ve had to fight out way through the entire garrison of guards,” Mariner gave him a look. “Not to mention get through all the security checkpoints with a bunch of clearance codes we don’t have.”
“Oh, right,” Boimler nodded.
“Qama’!” A group of recovered guards shouted raising their disruptors. “bIH mev!”
“Speaking of guards,” Mariner quickly dragged Boimler into one of the waiting shuttlecraft.
“Hegh!” An armored Klingon pilot roared turning to face them.
“Sorry, not this time buddy!” Mariner quipped as she swiftly disarmed the pilot and tossed him out of the shuttlecraft. “Thanks for the ride!”
“What are you waiting for?” Boimler yelled closing the shuttlecraft’s hatch as disruptor fire scorched the hull. “Get us outta here!”
“Right,” Mariner grinned sliding into the pilot’s seat and quickly powered up the shuttlecraft. “Hang on!”
“Oooppphhh!” Boimler gasped and fell to the floor as the shuttlecraft rose up before shooting out from the crevice.
“Alright, way to go, Boims!” Mariner cheered as they flew into the atmosphere. “Doesn’t this beat going to the Gym? Oh, that’s reminds me.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as Mariner stood up and began performing a series of lunges. “What are you doing?”
“Strengthening the ol’ calves, hamstrings and quadriceps,” Mariner said casually. “It’s my leg day ya know…” She was cut off by the shuttlecraft’s proximity alarm. “Uh, what’s that?”
“Oh no,” Boimler gulped as a pair of bird-of-prey decloaked in front of the shuttlecraft. “I think you celebrated a little too soon.”
“Oops, I forgot about this part,” Mariner snapped her fingers and quickly retook the pilot’s seat. “Don’t worry, Boims. I’ll get us outta this…”
KA-BOOOOOOM!
“Or not,” Mariner blinked as the shuttlecraft exploded from a combined barrage of disruptor fire and torpedoes before reverting to the bare hologrid. “Well, so much for the program. Still, I’d call that a pretty successful workout session, right Boims? Boims?”
“Ugh,” Boimler whimpered sprawled out on the floor. “Can’t breathe…can’t feel my pulse…”
“I have to admit, you handled yourself a lot better than I thought you would,” Mariner said grudgingly. “Maybe you’re capable of something a bit more challenging next time. Oooh, how about escaping from a Cardassian detention center? Or a Romulan interrogation chamber? Or maybe the main assimilation section of a Borg cube?”
“Maybe I should just take up racquetball,” Boimler moaned.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
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Workout With Mariner
“Hey, what’cha doing, Boims?” Mariner asked lying in her bunk.
“Heading to the Gym,” Boimler said wearing a set of sweatbands and casual workout clothes. “Thought I’d start the day with a good cardio session and strength training.”
“Strength training? You?” Mariner looked at him in surprise. “Since when do you voluntarily do anything physically intensive? The heaviest thing your puny muscles usually cart around is a stack of unwieldly data padds.”
“Hey, my muscles aren’t puny!” Boimler protested. “I meet Starfleet’s physical fitness requirements every year.”
“That’s not saying much. I know Elaysians who have stronger bone structure and musculature than you do,” Mariner smirked teasingly. “What, are you trying to get promoted by becoming a pathetic, muscle-obsessed meathead like Ransom?”
“No,” Boimler glared at her. “I just thought it would be a good idea to start improving my body along with my mind. To better physically prepare myself for dealing with future strenuous scenarios. Especially after struggling so much during our encounter with that lost group of Jem’Hadar.”
“I dunno, Boims. For a padd-pushing weasel, I think you handled yourself okay,” Mariner commented. “Hey, how about I join you? I can be your spotter and help guide you through your workout.”
“Na, it’s okay. I wasn’t planning on doing anything real intensive,” Boimler declined. “Just jogging on the treadmills for a few klicks and working out with hand weights…”
“Are you kidding? That’s so lame,” Mariner scolded. “You can do better than just mindlessly running in place without going anywhere. Unless you want your body-building career to mirror your Starfleet one…”
“Well,” Boimler thought for a moment. “Okay, fine. You can come with. Not that I could have stopped you anyway…”
“Alright! That’s the spirit, Boims!” Mariner grinned hopping down from her bunk. “Just give me a minute to change and prepare to feel the burn!”
“As long as we don’t end up being burned,” Boimler moaned. “Which happens way too often if you ask me!”
“C’mon, Boims! Let’s go!” Mariner whooped after swiftly changing into her own sporty workout outfit.
“Yeah, yeah,” Boimler sighed as Mariner dragged him down the corridors. “Hey, this isn’t the way to the Gym.”
“Who said anything about the Gym?” Mariner grinned entering the holodeck. “You can play at getting into shape in there on your own time. Here, I can pick one of my personal programs to make sure we have a real workout!”
“What?!” Boimler yelped. “Oh no! Don’t even think about it!”
“Don’t worry, Boims. We’ll start ya off with something easy,” Mariner smiled. “Computer, load Mariner Program Seventeen.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as they suddenly found themselves inside a vast, dimly lit ice-covered chamber. Both of them were now wearing leg irons and ragged furs while a crowd of tough, similarly-clad alien humanoids mingled around them. “What the? Where are we? What kind of workout program is this?”
“The best kind. A real-life, fully interactive experience,” Mariner grinned cracking her knuckles. “Get ready. The warm-up is pretty simple.”
“I could certainly use a little warming up right now,” Boimler shivered before one particularly hulking alien picked him up from behind. “Ahhh! Hey, let go!”
“Quog wok na pushnat!” The alien bellowed in Boimler’s face.
“Yaaahhh!” Boimler yelled dangling helplessly above the ground. “Ugh, talk about bad breath!”
“Hey, buddy,” Mariner tapped a passing alien on the shoulder. “Sorry about this. Nothing personal.” She immediately punched the alien in the face.
“Tobat uz stax!” The alien howled lunging at her. Mariner easily avoided the blow as her opponent ended up striking a third alien. More aliens quickly joined the fight.
“Alright, now this is more like it!” Mariner grinned as an all-out brawl quickly broke out among the mob. “Sure beats loping along on some wimpy treadmill!”
“Rangnit ascru, unto pram moreoscue shondik!” The hulking alien roared while shaking Boimler like a rag doll.
“Aieaieaieaieaie!” Boimler chattered senselessly.
“Hey, Boims! Get with the program!” Mariner scolded punching out a pair of aliens. “Stop hanging around already!”
“Hanging around is all I can do at the moment!” Boimler cried while trapped in the hulking alien’s grip. He managed to pull his feet up and slam them into the alien’s upper torso.
“Uggghhh!” The hulking alien shrieked in pain. He teetered for a moment before toppling to the ground with a crash.
“Huh?” Boimler gasped dropping like a sack of bricks. He stared at the fallen alien in surprise. “What happened? I just kicked him in the shoulders.”
“You also managed to kick one of his major cardiac clusters,” Mariner said coming over and helping Boimler to his feet. “Not everybody keeps their ventricles in the same place.”
“O-kay,” Boimler blinked. “Now what?”
“Now we use the mob of brawling aliens to cover to our escape,” Mariner said dragging him over to a nearby tunnel. “This riot won’t distract the guards forever.”
“Huh?” Boimler yelped spotting the squad of disruptor-wielding guards perched along the raised collection of scaffoldings. “What the…is this a Klingon penal colony?!”
“Yup,” Mariner confirmed. “I told you I’d take it easy on ya.”
“Are you insane?! What am I saying?!” Boimler yelped. “You consider escaping from a Klingon penal colony easy?”
“Dude, anyone can escape from a Klingon penal colony,” Mariner drawled hustling him down the passageway. “It’s pretty sad, really. Klingon prison facilities have totally gone downhill.”
“Just like my sanity,” Boimler groaned.
“Alright, we’re here,” Mariner stopped in the middle of the passageway and slowly pried open a small metal hatch built into one of the walls. She slithered through it and beckoned Boimler to follow. “Come on, hurry up!”
“Do I have a choice?” Boimler moaned crawling after her.
“You can always stay behind and get caught by the guards,” Mariner quipped closing the hatch. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.” She ripped off a thin metal panel from the wall and handed it to Boimler. “Here, tie this on. You’re gonna need it later.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as Mariner scrounged up another panel for herself. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain later,” Mariner waved tying the panel to her back using some ragged furs. “Right now, it’s time to climb.”
“Climb?” Boimler looked up to see they were standing at the bottom of a deep, narrow crevice. The rim of the fissure towered well over a hundred meters above their heads. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” Mariner said as she began to scale the cold, rocky wall. “What are you waiting for, Boims? Let’s go!”
“Ugh,” Boimler groaned reluctantly scrambling after her. “And I thought bucking for a promotion was a futile exercise.”
“‘Attaway, Boims. Keep it up,” Mariner urged as they continued their ascent. “Work those glutes. Go for the burn!”
“I’d rather go to Sickbay,” Boimler gasped as he struggled to pry himself hand over hand. “Oooo, I can’t feel my fingers!”
“Don’t quit now, Boims. We’re almost there,” Mariner encouraged later as they neared the top of the crevice. They finally reached the rim and dragged themselves over it. “There, so much for the easy part.”
“The easy part?!” Boimler wheezed peering around at the barren, frozen landscape as an icy wind howled about them.
“Yep. This next part is much more strenuous,” Mariner nodded heading off across the snow-covered wasteland. “Use the metal panel I gave you as a shield against the wind.”
“I know what I’d rather be shielded from. Or more like who,” Boimler shivered doing so while following after Mariner. “Brrrr, if Starfleet can make heat shields, why can’t they develop some kind of cold shield too?”
“I don’t know. You can ask Rutherford about it later,” Mariner shrugged plowing on. “Ah, just smell that air! This is much better than running on some lame treadmill like a mindless hamster, right Boims?”
“Are you crazy? What am I saying?” Boimler gasped with his teeth chattering. “That’s it! This is ridiculous! I’m not moving another inch!”
“Too bad,” Mariner said as a series of howls and snarls rose over the wind. “‘Cause it sounds like a pack of wild jackal mastiffs have managed to pick up our scent.”
“A pack of what?!” Boimler glanced back to see a vicious pack of furred animals with sharp claws and wicked, oversized teeth. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”
“Yeah, they’re a real motivator, aren’t they Boims?” Mariner quipped as Boimler immediately broke out into a sprint. “Hey, wait for me!”
“YAAAHHHHHH! HELP! THEY’RE GONNA EAT ME!” Boimler cried running as fast as his shackled legs would allow. “Computer, end program!” The snarling jackal mastiffs continued to pursue them over the frozen tundra. “I SAID COMPUTER, END PROGRAM!”
“Oops, sorry Boims,” Mariner apologized as she caught up with him. “All vocal commands only work for me since I’m usually the only one using this program…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler cried as the howling jackal mastiffs grew closer. “Then what are you waiting for? End the program now!”
“Are you kidding? We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Mariner said picking up her pace. “We only need to cover another two kilometers or so…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler gasped glancing back at the pack of pursuing beasts. “AAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!”
“Alright, this is it,” Mariner announced several minutes later. They had reached the edge of a second, wider crevice. “Good job, Boims. Lie down and take a load off.”
“Thank goodness!” A pale Boimler wheezed collapsing in exhaustion. “I can’t feel my legs…can’t feel my lungs…”
“Eh, that’s just the muscle fatigue setting in. Or frostbite,” Mariner said shrugging off her metal panel. She pried Boimler’s stiff fingers off his own panel before laying him down on it. “Get ready, Boims. Hope your bobsled skills ain’t too rusty.”
“My what?!” Boimler blinked as Mariner quickly tried the two panels together before shoving them dangerously towards the crevice’s edge. “Accckkk, what are you doing?!”
“Working out. What do you think I’m doing?” Mariner quipped plopping down on the front panel. “Here we go!”
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Boimler cried. “DON’T YOU DARE…YAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”
“Yahooo!” Mariner whooped as the two zoomed down the crevice’s steep, icy walls. “Alright! Now this is what I call a workout!”
“HAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!” Boimler screamed as Mariner barely managed to steer them around sharp rocky outcroppings and massive pillars of ice. “HELP! WE’RE BOTH GONNA DIE!”
“Don’t worry, Boims. The holodeck safeties are still on,” Mariner waved. “I think…”
“You think?!” Boimler shrieked.
CRRRAAASSSHHHHHH!
“Aw, over already?” Mariner pouted as the makeshift bobsled reached the bottom of the crevice, plowed through a squad of surprised prison guards and several stacks of empty storage containers before coming to a stop. “Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.”
“Ohhh…” Boimler twitched tumbling off the metal panel. “I think I’m going to be sick…”
“No time for that, Boims. We still need to make our escape,” Mariner said hauling him to his feet. “Darn, looks like we’ll be stealing a shuttle instead of a fighter.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked looking around to see a pair of blocky, freighter-like shuttlecraft sitting within the crevice. “Where did those come from?”
“Supply shuttles. The guards use them to transfer food and prisoners to the surface,” Mariner explained gesturing at their surroundings. “They can’t transport stuff in due to the magnetic shield so they converted this area to a combined cargo and hangar bay.”
“Seriously?” Boimler wheezed. “Then why the heck did you have us run over here through that freezing wasteland instead of through a nice, relatively warm tunnel? There must be at least one connecting this bay to the main prison.”
“Because we would’ve had to fight out way through the entire garrison of guards,” Mariner gave him a look. “Not to mention get through all the security checkpoints with a bunch of clearance codes we don’t have.”
“Oh, right,” Boimler nodded.
“Qama’!” A group of recovered guards shouted raising their disruptors. “bIH mev!”
“Speaking of guards,” Mariner quickly dragged Boimler into one of the waiting shuttlecraft.
“Hegh!” An armored Klingon pilot roared turning to face them.
“Sorry, not this time buddy!” Mariner quipped as she swiftly disarmed the pilot and tossed him out of the shuttlecraft. “Thanks for the ride!”
“What are you waiting for?” Boimler yelled closing the shuttlecraft’s hatch as disruptor fire scorched the hull. “Get us outta here!”
“Right,” Mariner grinned sliding into the pilot’s seat and quickly powered up the shuttlecraft. “Hang on!”
“Oooppphhh!” Boimler gasped and fell to the floor as the shuttlecraft rose up before shooting out from the crevice.
“Alright, way to go, Boims!” Mariner cheered as they flew into the atmosphere. “Doesn’t this beat going to the Gym? Oh, that’s reminds me.”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked as Mariner stood up and began performing a series of lunges. “What are you doing?”
“Strengthening the ol’ calves, hamstrings and quadriceps,” Mariner said casually. “It’s my leg day ya know…” She was cut off by the shuttlecraft’s proximity alarm. “Uh, what’s that?”
“Oh no,” Boimler gulped as a pair of bird-of-prey decloaked in front of the shuttlecraft. “I think you celebrated a little too soon.”
“Oops, I forgot about this part,” Mariner snapped her fingers and quickly retook the pilot’s seat. “Don’t worry, Boims. I’ll get us outta this…”
KA-BOOOOOOM!
“Or not,” Mariner blinked as the shuttlecraft exploded from a combined barrage of disruptor fire and torpedoes before reverting to the bare hologrid. “Well, so much for the program. Still, I’d call that a pretty successful workout session, right Boims? Boims?”
“Ugh,” Boimler whimpered sprawled out on the floor. “Can’t breathe…can’t feel my pulse…”
“I have to admit, you handled yourself a lot better than I thought you would,” Mariner said grudgingly. “Maybe you’re capable of something a bit more challenging next time. Oooh, how about escaping from a Cardassian detention center? Or a Romulan interrogation chamber? Or maybe the main assimilation section of a Borg cube?”
“Maybe I should just take up racquetball,” Boimler moaned.
--------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
