Romulan Marines...among other topics

Posted on Tue Jun 9th, 2026 @ 9:52am by Master Sergeant Luxa Gami [Naxea] & Captain Samuel Woolheater

Mission: Interlude
Location: Weight Room - Deck 32 - USS Elysium
Timeline: Today
1476 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure

Gami was in the middle of doing a set of barbell curls. She needed to keep busy, even during off duty times. In the gym with her were a few other Marines--not nearly the amount that would have been present in the room a year ago. The doors slid open as she spotted the newly reappointed Detachment XO enter.

"Welcome back, Sir," she called out, setting the barbell back down on the rack.

Sam snorted softly at that as he stepped fully into the weight room. The place smelled like sweat, rubber flooring, old metal, and determination. Which honestly made it one of the more comforting rooms aboard the Elysium. Loose gray PT shorts, old boots, and a sweat-darkened Marine Corps shirt clung lightly to his broad frame. The tattoos running down both arms stood out starkly against flushed skin while a towel rested across the back of his neck.

"Master Sergeant Gami. Damn. Y’all say that like I wandered off and joined the circus." A big open arm gesture..."But the clowns are all here." A tired grin tugged briefly at one corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," she said simply. A lot of clowns were missing, their names on the memorial board at the main junction in Marine Country. After a pause, she continued. "Got a few new clowns of the Romulan type."

Woolheater came in and took the bench across from her, "Good to see you too, Master Sergeant." Sam’s eyes drifted briefly around the room, instinctively checking posture, form, breathing, weight loads. Old habits.

"Looks like somebody’s been keepin’ the savages in shape while I was gone."

"Haven't had time for much else, Sir," Gami replied as she placed her hands on her hips. "It's been train, and fight lately."

Sam’s expression softened slightly at that.

“Yeah.” He nodded once, quieter now. “I noticed.”

His eyes drifted briefly toward the far side of the weight room before settling back on her.

“We've buried too many Marines lately.”

He put on his weight gloves and then racked thirty-five pounds on each side of the bar. A short breath left his nose as he placed the weights and then he shifted the conversation gently forward.

“How’re the Romulans settling in?”

She shrugged. "About as well as can be expected, sir. There of course has been some friction due to them acclimating to our rules and customs. But in the end, we need them and they need us. How are you feeling, sir?"

Sam looked down at the bar for a moment instead of answering. There were several easy responses. Fine. Ready. Fit for duty. All the usual little lies people told each other so no one had to stop and look too closely. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck once and settled back against the bench. He sucked it up and forced himself forward. Sam glanced from Gami to the loaded bar, then gave her a quick, crooked smile.

“Spot me, Master Sergeant?”

He said it easy, almost casual, but he waited for her before he slid beneath the bar. Sam stretched out on the bench with practiced confidence, boots set firm against the deck. The Marine Corps shirt pulled across his chest and shoulders. Ink ran down both arms, shifting over muscle as he found his grip.

“How am I feeling?” he repeated, eyes on the bar.

For a second, the answer almost came as a joke. Something broad and easy. Something that would let them both move on.

Instead, he breathed out through his nose.

“Like I’m back where I belong,” Sam said. “And like I’m not sure what that’s supposed to cost me yet.”

He nodded once for the lift-off.

“Physically, I’m good. Ready to pose for the USS Elysium calendar I fetch.” The grin came, but it did not quite stay.

The bar came free under Gami’s hands. Sam lowered it in a smooth, controlled line, chest rising beneath the weight, then pressed it back up with clean strength.

“But the rest of it?” he said at the top of the rep. “Still sorting that out.”

A beat passed.

“Otherwise?” Sam drew in a slow breath through his nose. “I’m angry. Tired. Glad to be back. Looking forward to Circinus in the rear view mirror y'know what I'm sayin'.

Gami nodded slowly as she listened. "Yes, Sir. I do."

"So tell me the truth, Master Sergeant. Are our new Romulan cousins a discipline problem, a cultural problem, or a trust problem?”

Gami thought about the answer. The Romulans had discipline and had earned their trust during the second battle with the Galatonians. "Trust and discipline aren't a problem. It's more of a cultural issue. According to the Colonel, the Romulan commandos were reportedly kept in cryogenic stasis until needed on the romulan vessel. That has to cause a person's social skills to lack."

Sam lowered the bar again in a slow controlled line. The plates rattled softly at the top as he locked his elbows out and drew another breath through his nose.

“Yup. Welp, that explains the frosty exteriors and staring contest." Sam pushed up the weights and said, "Hell,” he muttered. “Most Marines got questionable social skills before cryogenic stasis. But if discipline and trust are solid? We can work with culture.”

He racked the weight with a metallic clack and sat up, forearms resting against his thighs for a moment while sweat rolled slowly down the side of his neck. "Thanks" he said as the bar went back onto the stand.

“Culture’s just time. Shared misery helps.” He glanced sideways at Gami. “Nothin’ bonds people faster than bad chow, sleep deprivation, and somebody trying to kill you.”

Gami chuckled at the comment. "Story of my life, Sir "

"Master Sergeant, do you think we can...integrate with the Romulans and be a unit? I'm asking you because all I'll get is a yes sir line. Give it to me straight. Do you see us shoulder to shoulder? Not as Romulans and Federation. Nah...as one crew."

"Well, having a common enemy and goal helps, Sir," Gami said with a shrug. "Other than that, it's going to take time to get to that level of cohesion."

Sam sat quietly for a moment, elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah." The word came out thoughtful. "Time." He nodded once.

"Everybody thinks cohesion comes from liking each other. It doesn't." He grabbed the towel from around his neck and wiped away some sweat. "It comes from predictability. Y'know? I don't need to know what planet a Marine comes from." Another shrug. "I need to know that when things get ugly, they're gonna do what they said they'd do."

His eyes settled on Gami again.

"Master Sergeant, you've got a better read on this detachment than I do. People talk to you. I wish I had that level of access. You were thrust into situations since we got here that are...hell...beyond the pale? From a standard deployment. And I don't see your role diminishing in any way. We need you. We need every Marine we got. We're going to have to make some decisions about how we're going to maintain detachment strength." Sam wiped down the bench so that it was dry and clean for the next person.

"I'll take this idea to Colonel Azhul. Henderson put into words what we're all thinking. How are we going to survive? And not just survive but protect this crew? I appreciate your POV. Thank you for spotting me Master Sergeant."

"Anytime, Sir." The XO was at least a competent officer and a good fighter. Survive...she wasn't sure they would, especially if they ran into another Galatonian Fleet.

Sam nodded once. "Good." He pushed himself to his feet and slung the towel over one shoulder.

The weight room hummed quietly around them. Plates clinked. Someone grunted through a set in the far corner. The familiar sounds settled around him like an old field jacket. For the first time in a while, being here felt natural. He picked up his water bottle and paused before heading for the door.

"Keep doing what you're doing, Master Sergeant." The words weren't casual praise. They carried the weight of trust. "You've been holding a lot of this together."

Sam nodded once more before turning toward the exit. "Oh...and if the Romulans start winning all the staring contests, let me know. We can't have that becoming tradition."

A faint grin appeared. Then he stepped out into the corridor, leaving the smell of sweat, iron, and determination behind him.

The doors slid shut.

[OFF:]

Captain Samuel Woolheater, SFMC
Executive Officer, Marine Detachment
Sniper / Infantry Officer
Precision Fires & Recon Division
62nd Company "Spartans"
=/\= USS Elysium NCC-89000 =/\=

Master Sergeant Luxa Gami
62nd Company "Spartans"
=/\= USS Elysium NCC-89000 =/\=