<USS Avalon> log part 1

Past Patterns
by. Caine Reilly McKinsley and Lt. Commander Javan Sierra

Caine waved again to Hannah who had looked back over her shoulder before 
disappearing around a corner.  She was a sweet little girl, a bit odd, but very 
sweet.  Walking back into her office, Caine looked at the time.  She had an 
hour before her next appointment, her stomach made a noise of hunger, but Caine 
ignored it and instead decided to go work out.  She needed to let off some 
steam, but it seemed to be the only thing she was doing lately, working off 
steam, working, and sleeping.  Not the healthiest combination, but it helped 
her get to sleep.  She figured that by totally exhausting herself, she would be 
able to sleep better and not toss and turn all night.  So far her theory had 
proven wrong but she just couldn?t help but hope it would work one night.  

Changing into black spandex pants and a black tank top, Caine slipped on a 
black sweater and headed to the holodeck.  Her stomach growled in protest of 
missing another meal, but Caine ignored it.  She hadn?t been eating much, ever 
since the night Javan had walked out on her, she just didn?t want food.  

Caine was aware of the different people who had been talking about her and 
Javan on the ship.  She knew she had been classified as another one of Javan?s 
rejects and she hated it.  She had never wanted to be just another girl. 

Walking onto one of the holodecks, she rid herself of her sweater, and began 
one of her programs.  The room suddenly looked like a doju with a punching bag 
in the middle, wrapping her hands up she began to stretch.  Heavy metal music 
blared in the back ground and Caine began take her frustration of the world out 
on the punching bag.  
        
Her thoughts went back Javan and being just another one of the many girls in 
his life.  She knew it was her fault, she was the one who had the stupid dream, 
she was the one who couldn?t separate dream world from reality, she was the one 
who had thought that maybe she would be able to handle some kind of 
relationship; hell, she didn?t even know if they had really been in a 
relationship or what.  With each thought she hit the bag harder.  She could 
feel sweat beading on her forehead, but she didn?t want to stop, not yet.    

She began to hit the bag harder and harder as she thought about her past.  That 
asshole had screwed with her head pretty bad, it had taken her awhile to try 
and get over some of the things he had done to her and yet she still struggled 
with them.  What a great counselor I make, I have more problems then my 
patients, she thought.  As different memories came back to her, things she had 
tried for years to suppress, she hit the bag harder and harder wishing she 
could do this to the Baron?s face, wanting to pay him back for all the pain he 
had caused her.  

"Man, what'd the bag do to you?"  A voice called from behind her.

Caine jumped and turned to look behind her, Javan was standing there, in the 
door way to the holodeck.  She was unsure of what to do, this was the first 
time she had seen him since the fateful night he had walked out her door, so 
she stood there in silence, just looking at him.

Javan, clad in his sleeveless black t-shirt, leaned in a laidback manner.  His 
nylon black wind pants, which a white strip down the side, normally swished in 
his movement and made a cacophony of sound, but they laid silent.  He had his 
arms crossed and his brown eyes pierced the room, the dojo, and stared deeply 
into hers.  He smirked, "Taking the aggression out on the bag is one thing, but 
damn Caine, don't ruin the equipment for the rest of us."

Caine looked down at the floor, it wasn?t that she was completely scared of him 
still; it was more of that she was embarrassed of her treatment of him and how 
she would never get a chance with him again.  ?I am sorry.  I didn?t think that 
one could ruin holodeck equipment, I?ll stop now and you can have the place to 
yourself.?  Caine walked over to the side and grabbed her zip up sweater, fully 
intending to leave.

"Caine, it was a joke."  He moved over and took the sweatshirt from her and 
placed it delicately on the bench.  "You're doing it all wrong though.  If you 
want the proper workout and the knowledge that if you ever in a situation of 
danger you can cripple a Klingon warrior with a flick of your wrist."  Javan 
winked and moved over to the bag, motioning to it as he grabbed and steadied 
the swinging apparatus.

Caine stared at Javan.  He was being so nice to her, after what had happened.  
She was so unsure of what to do with herself now.  Seeing that Javan wanted her 
to follow him over to the bag, she did, wondering what in the world was 
happening.

Javan made a pose, an offensive posture, and put his right arm out further than 
his left.  "OK, copy this.  Open palm with the left hand, but a closed fist 
with the right.  Then, with your feet, have the right out in front of the left 
as you would mimic your hands."  He stood there waiting for her to follow his 
lead, but yet he wasn't sure whether or not she was going to.  He felt, in a 
passive scan, that she wanted eagerly to leave.

Caine looked at him, trying to figure out if she should.  She had been so 
scared of him just a few days ago, and then he walked out and she was no longer 
scared.  Now he stood just a few feet from her and all she wanted to do was to 
hug him and have him wrap his arms around her.  She knew that there was nothing 
she could do, he probably hated her and was only trying to be nice, but even if 
he was only playing nice, Caine would take him up on it.  Getting in to 
position across from him, she waited for his next directions.

"Now," he started, "when you go to attack you throw your weight to your left 
side, but strike out with the right.  You use this to counterweight in the 
event the defender attempts a pitiful reversal.  And if you do connect with 
your right and don't do enough damage then you can lash out with your left - 
which has all your momentum behind it."  He smiled and made a quick hit and 
cross to the bag.

Caine nodded and tried to do exactly what Javan had just told her and shown her.

"Excellent!  Don't be so timid when you punch, though.  If you hold back than 
you're not going to get the same effect.  Time for some real sparring?"  Javan 
perked his eyebrows and moved to her left about seven feet, "Computer, another 
punching bag with the exact parameters as the one currently in use in holodeck 
one."  It shimmered before his eyes.  

Thrilling under his praise, Caine watched his movements.  She wanted to know 
what he meant by real sparring, but she wasn?t going to ask, she didn?t want to 
look stupid in front of him; not that she didn?t already.  Caine stood waiting 
for Javan to do his next thing.

Without a glance Javan started firing shots into the bag and it bounced and 
weaved in many difference directions.  He'd completed a set of almost twenty 
straight shots before he paused and turned to his disciple.  He smirked and 
motioned to her bag, "You're up.  Just do what I did and throw in some of your 
own moves."  He steadied his bag

Nodding, Caine moved into position.  She began to imagine that the bag was the 
Baron?s face one more time, and she began to hit it.  Doing what Javan told her 
too, she added in some of her own moves, and it felt great to be imagining that 
she was doing the one thing she wished to do for most of her life.

"Go!  Go!"  He made gestures and shadow movements as he moved over to grab the 
bag as it frantically went every which way.  "Keep going!  Punch!  Cross!  
Hook!  You're doing great!"

Caine did, she kept hitting.  It felt so good to hit something, to let her 
frustrations be taken out on an inanimate object.  One that she knew would 
never feel pain, never have to deal with all the shit of life.  For once Caine 
felt no remorse as she let the years of pain a torment that she had kept 
bottled up, out on the punching bag.

TO BE CONTINUED...




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