Citadel, Quanda's Fitness Center) Gathering Strength-(Open)

"Aww don't be mad Sarah! Now I've done it", teased Michelle as Sarah walked away.
"Seriously though, how's your kid doing? Ho, hi officer, didn't see you there."

A small distance behind Cline, someone was watching him and had been, for a time. With a small smirk on his face, Hueyt observed Cline going to town on the dummy. The WO took a step forward during what looked like a break in the work out.

"Alright there, Cline?" There was no doubt that the Chief would have heard; if he recognised the Australian's face, voice, or accent was another story altogether.
"The dummy didn't root your missus, did it?"

"...15, 16, 17, 18, 19 20..."

Helena counted Sullivan's reps for a few minutes, impressed with how he was doing. A combination of keeping fit and genemods, she supposed.

"Hmm? Sorry, I was a little elsewhere. Well, to answer your question, I'm not strictly a member, theough my husband and I used to come here infrequently when we lived here on the Citadel. At the time, we were both independent journalists, well, I was, he was my assistant, and it helped keep yourself ready for all the running you're do in the field. You get sore from all the exercise sure, but it's better than wasting away behind a desk. I tried that once, after my daughter was born, but I couldn't stand it. Hence, getting back into it now."

The journalist chatted for a bit, before pausing to take a breath.

"Sorry. Give me the opportunity to gab, and you'll forever regret it. So, what do you do for a living, Mr. Sullivan? I'd bet five credits you're Alliance. My husband's been enlisted for most of the last year. You have that look about you."

Michael shook his head to her answer. "I would have to reluctantly take those five credits from you. Close though. Right now I'm C-Sec. Two years now. Before that I was Alliance ten years, so I guess somethings just never do leave a person." He shrugged. "I don't mind listening to people talk. Call it a character flaw or what not, but I've always liked listening to other people's stories. Keeps me grounded in reality, you know what I mean?" Michael closed his mouth for a moment, before deciding to get the topic off of him.

"So, how old is your kid?" Michael asked. "I'd guess, going by what you told me, at least two years old. Obviously old enough to not need constant attention from you, the mother, since you did use the word husband, which suggests that you are married to a male of some species, though I won't try to hazard a guess. So not Asari. Also from what I know, giving birth is a taxing process, and having a child means sleepless nights, unless things have changed from when I was a kid. But it can't be too long afterwards, since you mentioned trying a desk job, not liking it, and are now trying to get back into shape, or rather the shape you were in before you had a child. If I had to put an age I'd hazard a guess from probably anywhere between twenty-four months to thirty six months, depending on the development level of the child. Of course, I might be totally wrong, but my police senses are tingling to tell me I'm near the mark, if not completely correct." Michael smiled warmly. Children just released a gentler side to him. Of course, that being said, he couldn't resist one remark.

"Also two years ago everyone thought we were going to die, so....... things happen and the two of you didn't think about the consequences, and here we are, a new beautiful lifeform in this universe." Michael's eyes glinted mischievously as he said those words.

Sarah planted her feet into the ground, still planting the curve of her feet against the weights. Laying down on her back, the woman folded her arms behind her neck and curled her shoulders up in a curl. "My boy is fine, with the nanny right now. Still looking for a permanent nanny for when I return to work." She curled her shoulders again and began to work out a cycle of crunches. It appeared as if she were pushing herself too hard; The woman was only slightly out of shape and the dark rings around her eyes suggested a weariness.

The woman shot a glance over at Helena and the officer with the wandering eyes. Sighing, she curled her shoulders again.

Vohk nodded to Sarah. They'd gone through the expected salute and greetings earlier.

"The pleasure is mine, and I'm glad to see that my little extranet post got at least one person excited to participate. Is it just going to be you running for LTD or any other people participating?"

Vohk gave a polite nod to Shaart at the mention of the Raloi's name, though it didn't seem the feathered sapient was especially interested. He supposed he was prioritizing on training Rondor as much as possible.

"She's around here somewhere. Weight training, I believe. Helena won't be participating in the marathon, I believe, but we both wanted to take the opportunity to exercise for a bit. We have to keep in shape, or one day our daughter Delia's going to run circles around us, if she isn't already."

He grinned, before tuning to face the 2nd Lieutenant. Vohk didn't know Sarah Thompson very well, but he'd quick to salute when they'd spoken a half hour earlier, at the entrance. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure what to make of her. Ex-Cerberus types generally had a less than stellar rep with people, but she never seemed the type for it. Way too friendly, and if Muck was correct, had some confidence issues.

"So, will it be your first marathon LT? Or have you done this before?"

He asked the blonde officer, who was already starting her exercises.

"First marathon, Mr. Knox. I've been a volunteer at one before and I've worked in various other competitions in my past, but none of them athletic." She tucked her knees and kicked up, quickly transitioning to a seated position. "You? Are you going to be on furlough long enough to take part in it? Team 'Sarah Is Awesome' needs more people, by the way." She wiped her forehead and face with a towel.

Cline grinned, recognizing WO Hueyt. "Nah... Working out some frustration about this fobbit." he said, pointing to the battered picture taped to the head of the training dummy.

"Lieutenant Commander Lu Xingguo, the 9th got him a few months ago as a replacement Battalion CO. Guy's was responsible for the SNAFU in Scranton, Pennsylvania; involving the Keystone Rifles. Even before Scranton, he wasn't really well liked in the regiment. Thankfully, he's getting the boot. Our Regimental CO does not tolerate incompetance.
The biotic Service Chief then offered the kendo stick to Hueyt. "Want to take a few swings?"

Helena raised a brow, not disappointed her guess had been off the mark. Technically she wasn't even wrong, just a few years too late to be completely accurate.

"Well, I was close, incorrect only by two years. Though I'm curious, if you joined C-Sec two years ago, it must have been either during or immediately after the war. Why leave the Alliance then if only to get into a law enforcement profession? I know exactly what you mean, especially in my profession."

Helena wasn't exactly impressed with all his deductions. Showing off intelligence in front of people typically had the opposite effect than what was intended.

"She's 23 months now, actually. Her birthday's in December, so you're close. I have to wonder how often you meet couples with different species that you automatically considered the possibility. Though, given the number of asari on the station at any given time, it's not that unreasonable. You're actually spot on for my reasons to exercise though. You can't exactly transition from being a desk jockey to sprinting through a warzone, taking pictures all the while. Not without a scuffle or two."

She pointed at a small group of scars on her chin, evidence of when she tumbled on some asphalt during her little stint with the 9th regiment. At this point, she'd been comfortable talking to the C-Sec officer, but he'd gone a little too far in his speculations.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not discuss the circumstances of my daughter's conception with a stranger. Now, how many reps do you plan on going through?"

She asked, somewhat terse.

Michael released a quick laugh, raising his hands up "Sorry if I got a bit, well, inappropriate. It's my natural state according to many different people. Might be why I get in trouble so often. Feel free to ignore anything crass I say." He explained, the twinkle still in his eye. He sometimes couldn't help but be rude, to be honest he really didn't care what others thought of him, as long as he did his job.

He considered her other questions and statements carefully. "First, I left the Alliance because I needed a change of scenery. The Universe doesn't need more soldiers, it needs more people helping rebuild it. I found out quickly that I lacked many of the skills to help. I'm not a doctor or an engineer or an arcitecht.. All I've known is how to shoot a gun, do some math equations to input into computers if our radar was dead or anything. But you can't build a new beginning on that. I'm a soldier, plain and simple. So I joined C-Sec. I keep the peace, and I like it." He then added on as an amendment to his previous statement. "Not that I don't appreciate what your husband does. It was just, after the war and everything, it has you wonder about life. I needed change in my suddenly chaotic life. Let's say it brought on a mid-life crisis a few decades early." He paused, doing another repititon.

"As for the multi-species children, well it isn't a huge thing, but after the war there was a lot of orphans out there. A lot of parents out there who couldn't afford to keep their children. Add in the Asari and cross-species relationships, what you get is a general rise in multi-species families. That, and I've found out the hard way that people really don't like when I make assumptions, case-in-point being what I said earlier."

As for her last question, Michael gave a little shrug. "Not sure. I came here to forget some things that have recently resurfaced in my memory. I honestly was just going to do enough of a workout to get my mind off of it." His voice now possessed a sharper edge, though not nasty in any way. He didn't want to remember. Not watching his friends die, or how he failed to protect his comrades. How, though logically he knew he couldn't have done anything different, still trying to figure out different ways so that one less person died. One either knows this or not, you couldn't explain it to someone else. After a moment of quiet reflection, Michael spoke up again, this time in a softer voice, though his normal teasing tone still absent.

"You don't need to stay by the way. I am quite capable of doing this by myself. that is if you don't want to. No ones forcing you to stay with a de... Salty old veteran like me." He spoke, trying to convey the fact that he did appreciate her company, while giving her a choice. He certainly welcomed someone else's company, he did. However, he was just as sure that in some manner he was keeping her from doing something important. He almost always did. He mentally grimaced. It sucks to be depressed.

Hueyt raised an eyebrow at the dummy.
"He one of those poncey 'I got a Duntroon flash, I have more experience than a twenty year vet' fuckers?"
Smiling, he took the stick from Cline, but lifted his left sleeve up to show a tattoo of a boxing kangaroo on his thick, muscled upper arm.
"I've always been a boxer m'self, but I guess I can give it a try."

Stepping towards the dummy and motioning for Cline to step back, Hueyt began swinging, wide, clumsy, but powerful. After a few paticularly heavy strikes that made his arms tingle, the Australian offered the Canadian the stick.
"Definitely not my cup of tea, mate," he said, shaking his head. He was quiet for a moment, before saying, "I think I heard about that Charlie-Foxtrot. What actually happened?"

Cline sighed, and began to explain what happend in Scranton. "Lieutenant Commander Dumbass here," he said pointing to the picture taped to the dummy, "thought it would be a good idea to use the tanks we got as a distraction while the infantry attacked Scranton via Wilks-Barre. It was sheer dumb luck we managed to take the KR's headquarters, but he managed to screw that up, somehow letting the rest of the militiamen to escape. Dude should've stuck to what he was before he came to the 9th, a Logistics Officer."

Cline glanced over at the Heavy Punching bag hanging a few metres away from the training dummy, a copy of the same photo on the dummy taped to it, and 2 Marines with it. One holding it in place who donned a well worn Los Angeles Dodgers hat; the other punching it, donning a HC CSKA Moscow Jersey. "The two mooks over by the punching bag are a few of my squadmates in the 9th."

"We Heard that, Chief!" the marine in the LA Dodgers cap replied, as the two marines turned to focus on Cline and Hueyt.

"Anyway Hueyt, meet Corporals Miguel Santiago and Dmitri Sokolov. Squad Machine-gunner and Squad Designated Marksman respectively." Cline said, introducing the two Marines. "Miguel, Dmitri, This is Warrant Officer Class One Alexander Hueyt, Australian Defence Force. Met him when I volunteered for that initiative in the Middle East. He too was also stuck on Earth for the duration.

"Nice to meet another Reaper War vet who was on Earth for the Duration, We're kinda a rare breed these days..." Cpl. Sokolov stated, his Russian accent evident.

"Well Laykalar would have loved to participate but obviously can't, Mr Snow's not interested... Shaart, are you considering it? Ho, and maybe we could speed things up, I believe it's been five minutes."

"Don't know yet. I'm heading back planet side tomorrow, but I'd like to participate if I'm able to get on with another furlough by then. Not likely, but I'd want it to garner as much attention as possible. Make sure that charity get's all the attention it can, you know?"

Knox gave his superior officer a look, not sure if she was joking or not. "...That's really the name of your team? You're not running with any particular charity group looking to get the 130k?"

He returned his attention to Michelle, eyebrow raised. "Laykalar always struck me as enthusiastic sort. Pity he can't quite participate, but he'd be a decent cheerleader on the side lines. Anyway, Snow's still with the LTD? I would have thought the legal bindings keeping him with you guys would have ended by now. Is he volunteering, or did you hire him for a job?"

Sarah raised a wily brow. "Of course 'Sarah Is Awesome' isn't the name of my athletic team, Knox. I'm not that conceited." She brushed a hand through her hair and slowly stood up. "I've been looking at charities, but I can't think of which one." She planted her hands on her sides. "What did you personally have in mind? Leaving the Ducts?" She shot a glance over at Michelle and crossed her arms.

"If they can't find anyone else, I suppose I'd join them."

Hueyt shook his head at the dummy. "Idiot. He parked 'em in the street, didn't he? In the middle of the insurgents who have anti- armour guns, right?" He let Cline redirect his attention to the two Marines, nodding respectfully.
"A pleasure," he said, before thumping Cline on the back.
"You're lucky with this one, that's the fuckin' truth. Don't know how many times he saved my arse in Israel." Smiling broadly, he moved his arm off of Cline's shoulder to point up to Sokolov (as loud and strong as his voice was, Hueyt was still only five-foot-seven), and raised an eyebrow.

"You're right on the money with that, mate. Unless you go see one of the planetary armies, in which case, you're more hard-pressed to find someone who wasn't. Though my step-brother -or half-brother depending on which parent you ask- is a Lance-Jack in the ADF-... Sorry, I mean Lance-Corporal," he held up one finger and added, "one chevron. Anyway, he was attached to one of the SAMC fleets for a few weeks before the war. Before he could come back though, we got attacked, and he buggered off into space. Fought with the SAMC for the entirety of the war."
It seemed as if he was thinking silently for a moment. He turned to Miguel.

"Santiago. Machine-gunner, eh? What MG do the Marines use?" Sure, he probably could've found out on the extranet, but if the man was right there...

Michelle started smiling as Sarah mentioned joining LTD. Obviously that smile faded as she made it clear that it was her last option.
"Well, that's the spirit", she replied obviously upset. "You know Sarah after what we've been through together..."
She stopped talking a second, and realization dawned on her.
"... I should know that you were just pushing my buttons. Damn you Thompson."

"Most of the other guys in the regiment use the Hahne-Kedar M-49A6 'Avalanche' LMG, but I've been using the Rosenkov 'Volga' LMG, It's less finicky when it comes to getting dirty and doesn't eat through heat sinks like it's a bulimic model. As for say... A HEAVY machine gun, we've been using the Hahne-Kedar Mk56 Vajra HMG. around 1400 rounds-per-minute, but it weighs around 40 kilos." Cpl. Santiago explained.

"As for myself, I actually tend to use the M-99 Sabre for my rifle. Heavy as hell, but hey, you can use the buttstock as a blunt weapon. Not to mention the accuracy, and the power it's got, probably one of the best weapons out there for Designated Marksmen." Cpl. Sokolov continued.

"Five minutes have passed, and no, I'm not considering the marathon." Shaart spoke shortly as he keyed the treadmill to slow down. He stepped off to stretch his leg muscles. He wasn't ready for such exertions yet, that Shaart was sure of. In fact, the concept of marathon favoured humans and asari. Raloi did not have legs for long distance running, theirs were evolved for agility in uneven terrain.

"Follow my lead, or do the closest moves you can, seeing as our legs differ structurally." he demonstrated the difference by stretching his digitigrade legs.

Cline just shrugged as the two corporals waxed poetically about their weapons."So, Hueyt, heard the AFL's getting started again this year, but as a kind of semi-pro league. Even heard they even refurbished some of the old suburban stadiums in Melbourne for it.