Lt. Commander Yogan Yalu — Glima for dummies
Yogan Yalu
(( OOC: I’m so sorry, Mikey. I wrote a sim to answer your bridge tags and never posted it. I’ve incorporated a bit as a flashback into this sim, but I’ll catch up with Iljor during shore leave for some proper simming. ))
(( Holodeck 1, Deck 6, USS Excalibur-A ))
Yogan shook his head back and forth, trying to jostle it free from the armpit of a holographic sparring partner. He wasn’t succeeding. This was the third time in a row the opponent had succeeded in bringing him to the mat, smacking his shoulder blades against the floor every time. It wasn’t over, though. The hologram grabbed Yogan’s right arm and twisted it across his face. Now with his vision obscured by the inside of his own elbow, there wasn’t much else he could do but struggle futilely. The opponent quickly twisted his body, making Yogan the “south” in “north-south position,” then stood up and claimed his points before vanishing.
Yogan rolled over and stood himself up, then said to no one in particular.
Yalu: Glima. Earth is a weird place.
The folk wrestling tradition of Earth’s Nordic region was full of curiosities and downright peculiarities, but that’s why Yogan liked it. His height and size gave him an advantage when it came to sheer force, but the rules of Glima forbade knocking one’s opponent down by force alone. No, with this alien martial art, technique reigned.
Yogan half-clapped, half-brushed his hands against each other as he paced a wide circle around the holodeck, trying to remember the lesson he’d just heard.
Yalu: Computer, repeat lesson 9-Alpha.
Computer: “Pushing one’s opponent down with force is unsportsmanlike, and in opposition to the nature of Glima as a sport for honorable sportsmen and -women. Opponents should be conquered by using a well-implemented grip that makes the opponent fall gracefully to the ground without any further action.”
Yogan snorted a laugh.
Yalu: Gracefully. ::beat:: Yeah. Computer, begin exercise 10.
A holographic belt appeared around Yogan’s waist and lower thighs, and a similarly-belted opponent appeared on the opposite corner of the mat. He stepped forward and greeted the hologram with the customary grip of the forearm, then the two fighters gripped each other’s upper arms to begin the match. They stepped methodically in a clockwise motion, more waltzing than fighting at this point, but Yogan saw an opportunity and acted quickly, swinging his right arm out of position and grabbing the opponent at the waist, just above the belt.
The opponent reacted, attempting to break free of Yogan’s hold, but for the first time in ten exercises, Yogan managed to get and keep the upper hand. He arched his back and lifted the hologram up and over, sending him to the mat with a satisfying thud. Yogan landed in a side control position, then took a knee-to-belly posture and pushed off of the opponent’s chest to stand up and claim a victory. His first Glima victory.
The entire move lasted fewer than ten seconds, but Yogan relished each moment in slow-motion detail. Glima is a lot more fun when you win. The hologram vanished once again and Yogan paced the holodeck to catch his breath, wondering briefly whether he might have had earlier success at Glima if he were still in Talos’ body.
(( Flashback – Bridge, Deck 1, USS Excalibur-A – Day before yesterday ))
Yogan offered to help Iljor evaluate the candidate star system as a home for the orb species, but he couldn’t help asking his Bajoran friend what it was like to be in the body of Commodore Nicholotti, and unwittingly becoming part of the continuity of ship’s command during the emergency.
Etan: It was… different. ::he said eventually in a hushed tone.:: Good different. I think.
Yogan grinned. It might have been Iljor’s first time in the big chair. Yogan recalled his first experience being the ranking officer on the bridge: Lieutenant Knight and Commander Adea left for a tête–à-tête in the ready room when Resolution was in orbit of the Da’al planet. They were gone for only a few minutes, and Yogan had been too scared to sit in the chair, but the experience felt… good.
Yalu: ‘Good different’ is the best kind of different.
Etan: I don’t know if it was because I was in the Commodore’s body but I felt… comfortable? ::he shook his head, not knowing whether it was the right word of not.:: I’m not sure how best to describe it.
Yalu: I would imagine someone like the commodore might be genetically predisposed to command. As a guest in her body, maybe some of that rubbed off on you. ::beat, chuckles:: Or maybe it was the chair.
Etan: ::he grinned:: Oh now that was comfortable. I can see why so many people want to sit in it.
As Yogan’s career progressed, he did get the occasional opportunity to sit in Resolution’s captain’s chair; first during the night shift and eventually, albeit very briefly, as acting first officer. In his new strategic operations role, he eagerly anticipated that an opportunity or two might come up to get to command Excalibur in the near future.
Yalu: I know I do.
The two officers shared another easygoing grin, and Yogan realized a part of him missed sharing quarters with Iljor. Not enough to downgrade his quarters–deck four, sector three was a pretty sweet place to live–but they’d had a giggle or two during their time as roommates.
Etan: Anyway- ::he turned his attention to the task at hand.:: - the Sphere-Aliens we’re trying to reach this hypergiant- ::he pointed to the pale lavender dot on the screen before them.:: - but that has got less than 100,000 years before it starts to undergo the final stages of nova. I’ve expanded the search radius outwards and there is a trinary star system with a particular dense neutron star that is putting a lot of gravimetric waves about six light years away. I think that has got a lot of potential. Do you think our new friends will like it?
Yogan was still trying to grasp what Iljor had just said. He’d gotten lost somewhere around “tertiary Newton geometric waves,” but the columns of data alongside the map helped him to refocus. The sphere aliens had filled Yogan’s head with incalculable information, but he somehow retained enough of it to understand that this trinary system was the right place for the orb consciousnesses.
Yalu: I think they will. Chesapeake is closer to this system than we are. Maybe they can give it a first look, take some readings and verify it’s habitable for our orb friends.
They got to work, but after a short silence, Iljor turned to Yogan with a question Yogan wasn’t quite ready to answer.
Etan: How was being Betazoid?
(( End flashback ))
Talos Dakora might have had an easier time taking up Glima, but the whole experience of Cytaris V had reinforced to Yogan that he had it pretty good. Mind, body, and symbiont all worked best when they stuck together. Even though things weren’t exactly back to the way they were before–‘Talos Yalu’ was something Yogan would need to work through–he was nothing but delighted to be himself again.
Pivoting on his right foot, Yogan replicated the armpit maneuver he’d fallen prey to in an earlier exercise. He swung his forearm down, hard, and broke his opponent’s posture, then continued twisting the hologram’s head downward. Letting gravity do what it does best, Yogan leaned forward and brought his simulated fighting partner down to the mat in a half-somersault, half flump, then came down and put him in a headlock.
Yalu: ::breathing heavily:: Success! Not exactly graceful, but success nonetheless.
Scoring two points in a row left Yogan feeling emboldened enough to keep going. Folk wrestling wasn’t exactly the type of unarmed combat that Master Chief Graves had introduced him to, but he was learning the fundamentals and getting comfortable with various techniques would serve him well if–no, when–he attempted more challenging forms of martial art.
Yalu: Computer, begin exercise 11.
TBC
Lt. Commander Yogan Yalu
Strategic Operations Officer
USS Excalibur NCC-41903-A
Justin D238804DS0