Lt. Robin Hopper: Worse Than Ice Hockey
Robin Hopper
((“Villa, Magna Roma” – Holodeck 2, Copernicus Center - Amity Outpost))
Robin sipped happily on her wine and sampled the local vegetarian foods with delight. In some ways, it reminded her almost of her last trip to Velestus. Though that had been many years ago, the flavour and smells of the sunsoaked fruits, veg, and oils were taking her back on a scent memory journey… She would have go back some time, reconnect with her roots, see her grandparents…
All of them turned to look as the red stucco wall in one spot across from the sofas bloomed to life first with the broadcast logo, a stylized circle seal with ETP stamped in the middle.
Iovianus: We are getting underway now. Load up ::looking to Robin:: You should try those with the yogurt sauce. ::turning back toward the others:: Some of the things a little closer to Italian are here in the middle. Dessert with coffee and tea will follow later on.
Robin nodded enthusiastically, picking up the recommended snack and dipping it into the dollop of yogurt dip. Cassian certainly knew what he was talking about. It fascinated her how a man so clearly proud of his heritage and his culture remained so ‘buttoned up’ about it most of the time. He rarely struck her as a “proud Magna Roman”... Perhaps his pride and identity were just more tied up in his Starfleet career…
Frater: Welcome Brothers…
She followed the others towards the couches, making sure to stock up on goodies and top up her wine along the way. She’d never been much for watching sports – least of all watching a recording of sports – but with so much food and drink and good company involved, it was hard not to enjoy.
oO Hopefully all this food doesn’t make me fall asleep mid-game… Oo She mused to herself.
As the face of an announcer appeared on the screen, she settled in, tucking her legs up onto the sofa underneath her.
Rectrix: Under the gaze of the Great Family we gather together to seek justice and so our faith and prowess together in these games. It is through them we ask for safety and security from now until the swirl.
Iko: So, who are we rooting for?
Robin nodded, finishing off her sip of wine and putting the glass down on the table.
Hopper: Great question! Are there, uhh, “teams”? Are there any, um, champions?
Reade: Response
Iovianus: Thov Ch'rethass took the middleweight title from Marcellus last year; it has taken this long for him to come back up the ranking.
Robin nodded, trying to make sense of the information. Some guy took a middleweight title in some sport from some other guy a year ago… Were these games annual? More frequent? oO Ahh, we’ll just watch and see what happens… Oo
Iko: I wonder how well he’ll do.
Ukinix: Looks like we’re soon about to find out. ::Lifting glass:: Here’s to Marcellus!
Hopper: ::Holding up a finger:: Unless, we don’t like Marcellus?
She honestly still wasn’t sure which guy was which, or which one she was supposed to root for.
Reade: Response
Iko: And the other guy?
Iovianus: Thov? He is good. He has a lot of fans since he moved in and with five defenses last year he was working overtime.
Robin was still baffled… She didn’t understand the jargon. But she gauged from Cassian’s demeanor that he at least didn’t seem to despise either contestant. So, seemingly whatever the outcome was, it was the experience of watching the games that was to be the highlight. That suited her just fine.
Ukinix: ::Lifting glass again:: And to the other bloke!
Hopper: Hear, hear!
Reade: Response
(( A short time later ))
Robin sat, wide-eyed, her legs tucked up and her arms wrapped around them, watching the screen with disquieted intensity. Boxing, she was familiar enough with – though combat-based sports had never been her cup of tea… But when the swords had come out, she’d nearly had to excuse herself. It had been hard enough overlooking the Hirogens’ penchants for violence and that had only been sort of in her face. The thought of seeing someone run-through with a blade in ritual combat struck her as rather barbaric.
Then again, Cassian had promised that part of the point of his invitation to the viewing was to dispel the stereotypes surrounding the Magna Romans and their games… So she toughed it out, and was exceedingly grateful when only a slash across the shoulder was required to render a verdict. Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that this was hardly the most reasonable way to settle a legal dispute – and the sight of blood dripping down the man’s chest still made her abandon her glass of wine.
She just hoped the next sport would be less intense as a pair of teams, one in burnt orange and the other wearing a sky blue uniform took to the field.
Iko: Should be a fun show.
Ukinix: ::Staring at screen:: I reckon. So what are the rules? Is there tackling? Are they allowed to throw the ball to each other?
Iovianus: Tackling is allowed. You can throw the ball, throwing elbows to the body is also allowed but not the head.
Hopper: And there aren’t answer swords, or um, flails or anything? ::Gulping:: Just asking.
Reade: Response
Iko held her drink up – but Robin had lost her stomach for it. Violence in the name of self-defense was one thing, but to use it for glory or sport or extracting justice simply struck her as wrong. What kept her in her seat was the bloodless battle raging within her, as she weighed her own convictions against the precepts of xeno-anthropology… to attempt to remove your preconceived cultural biases when viewing other cultures and opening yourself to learning from them, rather than judging them.
It wasn’t easy… but it’s what she would expect them to do for her and her own culture. So it was the least she could do. oO This is why I specialized in physics… Oo she thought to herself.
Iko: It’s good stuff, ::turning to Iovianus:: Ay?
Iovianus: ::nodding his head:: Aye, a solid drink.
As the game progressed, Robin did her best to follow along, and – with things having ‘settled down’ from the previous ‘sport’, her wine glass eventually found its way back into her hands. Wil and Bec, however, seemed to be having a grand time. Scotty, often more reserved, even seemed to be enjoying himself well enough. Cassian was, as always, stoic as a brick.
Ukinix: ::Pointing at screen:: What’s happening now?
Iovianus: It is a signal for the coaches and the viewers that the team has passed an interval of 5 minutes.
Hopper: What’s the significance of that?
oO In Volleyball, you take a three-minute break between each set, which last 25 minutes… Are the intervals in this game like ‘sets’? Do they swap out tired players now, or…? Oo
Reade/Iko: Response
The ball was knocked loose and carried across the centerline after a tackle that was shown through replay to have included a forearm blow across the defender's collarbone. It drew a reaction from the stadium and those present.
Ukinix: ::Watching screen:: Oooooh! Bloody hell, that must’ve hurt.
Iovianus: ::nodding his head:: The way he is laying there it seems so.
Reade/Iko: Response
Robin once again set her wine glass down on the table.
Hopper: ::Saddened:: Someone’s going to help him, right? That isn’t allowed is it? ::Shaking her head::
Ukinix: ::Still watching screen:: That looked like a free to me. Or a foul, or whatever. Where’s the umpire? ::Pondering for a moment:: Is there an umpire?
Iovianus: Aye ::nodding his head and pointing at the screen:: The judge in the yellow there. There are others scattered around the edges but he is the main on the field.
Robin watched as the yellow-clad judge approached the scene and quickly made a ruling, indicating something with a complicated routine of gestures.
Ukinix: ::Still looking at screen:: Whaddya reckon, Robin, Serv-sphera as our daily Starfleet fitness routine?
Robin shot Wil a bewildered look.
Hopper: What?! ::Shaking her head:: Uh-uh. Count me out. I get enough bruises as it is playing volleyball.
Reade/Iko: Response?
Iovianus: ::tapping Wil on the shoulder:: There they are striking him out for the next bit of play for that hit.
Both the tackler and his victim were leaving the field with the injured man at least leaving under his own power but heading to the medical tent with his arm held up to his chest.
Ukinix/Reade: Response?
Iovianus: If he did have a break it can get patched up. He could be back on the field before the penalty time is over.
Hopper: Is that safe? What sort of doctors are there that send someone with a just-mended collarbone back on the field?
oO This is almost as bad as ice hockey… Oo Robin thought to herself.
Iovianus/Ukinix/Reade/Iko: Response
Hopper: ::Sighing:: I’m sorry, I’m just finding it hard to reconcile how “fighting” and “sport” go together. I get that they’re both physical, but when someone’s getting hurt, isn’t that sort of the antithesis of what exercise and physical training are all about?
The question had sort of slipped out of her. Perhaps on account of the wine. She should have just let it be after the sword duel – but once she’d had it in-hand again, it had been hard to put down. She hoped that nobody, especially Cassian, would find it insensitive, but she knew that both humans and Klingons had violent sports in their own histories as well… So at least the question was a relatively broad-spectrum one.
Iovianus/Ukinix/Reade/Iko: Response
Hopper: I suppose I can see the logic in that… ::Shrug:: I’ll try to grin and bear it. Maybe I just need to… desensitize myself… ::Taking another big gulp of wine:: Don’t mind me.
Iovianus/Ukinix/Reade/Iko: Response
TBC
