Alcohol and Riches

Posted on Sat Nov 12th, 2022 @ 8:46pm by Chief Petty Officer Julius Law & Sergeant Bryana "Bri" Locke
Edited on on Sat Nov 12th, 2022 @ 9:46pm

Mission: S1 Episode 4: The Cloud
Location: After 11 Lounge
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 2130
4014 words - 8 OF Standard Post Measure

The ever-sunny Anorra had been a pleasant distraction from the monotony of ship life, especially for a Marine. Most of their action came in a few intense moments of action with long stretches of quiet. At the end of her shift, Bryana ducked into the barracks to shed her uniform like a snake sheds its skin before cleaning up. She headed to the lounge to grab a drink, relax, and maybe find some entertaining company. Never a girly girl, as her sisters put it, the Marine still liked to make an effort to look good. She did this with a sleeveless v-neck top, offering just enough skin to be enticing, a pair of jeans, and a simple pair of dark leather gladiator-style sandals. The night proved a bust given that most everyone was hitting the doldrums, feeling homesick now that the reality of a seventy-year journey back home was sinking in. She wasn't immune to that, just like every other Terran on the ship. She had family back home, and there was a heavyweight in her chest as she thought about her sisters, her ma and pa, or what they might be told about what happened. She'd done her best not to think about it and drown her sorrows in a stout lager-style beer they had gotten from the planet. It reminded her of a Guinness with a rich, full-bodied dark body and a nice head of foam. She'd already downed four starting to feel that familiar numbness that came with a good buzz.

Nursing what would be the last drink of the evening, Bryana turned her attention to the viewports and dark pink cloud of the swirling nebula. It was purported to be filled with riches, but it made her think of the cloying sweetness of cotton candy. Even with all her staring, she hadn't seen one exciting thing as she sipped her lager and ignored the doors as they opened again.

Julius walked in without a hint of social interest. He wore a pair of black jeans and a green v-neck closely hugged his cut physique, showing much of what was underneath. The man was strong as an ox and, by his look, as mean as one. He walked up to the bar and sat right next to Bryana. Looking up at the bartender, he gave his typical severe expression.

"Moscow mule for me. A refill for the lady on my tab," he said. His voice was low and commanding, and there was no hesitation in his speech or movements.

The man sitting down next to her drew the Sergeant's attention immediately. Turning to look at him, the woman gave herself a moment to consider a response before taking a sip of her drink. "Well, aren't you just poured straight into that shirt, or did they have to paint it on?" She shot the man a playful smirk over the top of her glass. Still considering him, she was used to such straight-to-the-point approaches; a terrible pick-up line usually followed them.

She wasn't sure she was still in the mood for the company, but she'd play along to see his game.

"So Moscow Mule, you have a name?" Her words had a sweet, twangy drawl as smooth as silk and gave the impression that she was a country girl, not the hardened Marine she'd forged into.

"Do I have a name?" He turned the question back on her, settling his stone-cold gaze on her, making the people who knew better tremble. It wasn't personable since it seemed to indicate a complete disinterest in impressing her. Still, his eyes had a certain softness that showed he wasn't hostile. He wasn't a charmer, and he wouldn't start now. "You telling me you haven't heard of me? I'm going to knock my agent's teeth in over this."

The humor was extremely dry but very much a joke. Lifting the copper mug to his lips, he took a sip of the clear, iced liquid before turning his attention back to her.

"I'm Julius. And you're Bryana, I already know," He made as a statement, still relatively expressionless but standing tall and presenting nothing but confidence. He raised his hands. "Don't worry; I stalk all the women I'm going to approach."

"Uh huh," Came her unconvinced reply as she pushed the fresh lager back, sitting up a little straighter as she was used to encountering all sorts, both from back home and in the fleet. The last person to get too fresh with her had learned a pointed lesson about keeping your hands to oneself. "You're off to a brilliant start here, Jules, so want to tell me why you've taken to sniffing after me? We'll have words if I get back to the barracks and find any of my undies missing."

"And fists." She added for emphasis.

"Panty raids are for amateurs', Bri," he said, using her familiar nickname in the way she'd used his. How she'd known it, he didn't know, but it might have just been a good guess. "I'm perfectly capable of getting the ones you're wearing."

"Uh huh," Came that uttered reply once more as she watched the man, he objectively was a good-looking man, but his approach hadn't made the best impression on her. "So why are you approaching me? Fraid, the ship of getting my panties, has sailed a few hours ago."

"It doesn't matter. I'm under orders to stay out of your panties, Sergeant specifically. So I'm trying to creep you out to stop you from lusting after me." he said, but this time he allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "Chief Julius Law, your new direct superior. Obviously, you haven't gotten the new paperwork yet, so grab that drink, and we can talk about it. Don't worry; I'm not trying to get in your pants."

He did find her attractive. She was strong, driven, with a downhome charm and a nice ass. But he needed to be about business because he wasn't prepared to jeopardize this opportunity so fast.

"Well, then Chief Law, Sergeant Bryana Locke." She introduced herself with a raise of her half-empty glass before finally taking the first as she slid out of the stool to lead the way over to a table before taking a seat with him. "Future note, good lookin' bull or not, it's best you be straight up with me and don't play games cause that's a right quick way to get on my bad side,"

She gave him a hard, pointed look that could have killed a charging Klingon at a hundred paces. "I promise you, Rura Penthe is a hell of a lot warmer."

"I haven't received any orders about a new assignment, so fill me in if I'm supposed to serve under you. What's the assignment? Who are we reporting to? And more importantly, what muckraking, pissing contests are we going to get drawn into with the brass?"

"I'll be honest with you, Bryana, I don't give a fuck about whether the side I get from you is good or bad. I was testing you, seeing how long it took you to realize I wasn't trying to bend you over anything." The man looked at Bryana with that same stone-cold gaze as before. "In other words, I was trying to determine if Lieutenant Cassiel sent me to manage an idiot,"

His tone was harsh, as usual, and he pulled no punches. "I come straight at all times."

He pulled out a PADD and slid it to her.

"All the details are there, including the other members of Shadow Squad. Our mission profile will be special operations. Each of us is assigned to a unit by the marine barracks under my command. We will live, train, eat, and fight together. So you need to make peace with my face real quick."

She didn't look or answer him since her attention was focused on the PADD and the details. She reviewed the orders before eventually giving Julius her full attention again. "Well, ain't you just a ray of sunshine beamin' down on a bed of full-stemmed roses." She shook her head, finished the remaining glass, and then moved to the new glass of lager. Taking a drink, she considered her following words while sucking the foam off her upper lip, meeting Julius' gaze directly. "I'll lay it out for you straight, Chief."

"I don't mince words. I shoot it straight, I don't kiss ass, and I don't hump brass." She set her glass down, running her finger idly around the rim. "As to the bunking arrangement, hell, that sounds like five-star accommodations to me."

"Not sure how you Fleeties did in training, but that's the kind of arrangement a Marine learns to love in Boot Camp." She continued with an almost wistful smile. "My pappy's farm didn't push out some wilting daisy. As long as you and the rest of the team pull your weight, you won't hear one complaint from me about having to look at your real face or any other part of you."

"Important question is, can you take a woman being honest with you?"

"Of course," He responded, leaning in and listening to her. To be honest, he found her accent annoying and had difficulty understanding her references, which only made it worse. No one had ever accused Julius Law of being brilliant, but he was effective; damn good at his job. "I'm glad you're such a team player. You and I need a report if we're going to lead this team. I need people like you to be honest with me, but when I give an order, I need you and everyone else to shut up and do what I said. Anything else is chaos, and I don't like chaos."

He looked at her more evenly with less formality.

"Now, I propose we let our guards down and try to get to know each other a little." He smiled again, this time wider and more genuine. It was handsome but still seemed strange on his face. "Technically, this thing doesn't start til tomorrow, so we've one night of me not making you so fuckin' angry you want to try and knock my teeth out."

"Tell me about yourself, Bri. You mentioned a farm; where are you from?"

"The Denver City, specifically to the Denver Confederacy in NorAm, or North America if you don't call those parts home." She offered up, her drawl giving her words a little lackadaisical lilt to them, making it feel like she was taking her time with the conversation. The country girl wasn't sure what to make of the man in front of her, but he was pretty as a picture, and the company wouldn't hurt til she called it a night.

"Lived out in the rural parts on an old farm built by my great, great granpappy." She chuckled, shaking her head. "All sorts of colorful stories about the types who came by trying to take the land."

She proudly shared her family heritage before sipping her lager. "Grew up working the farm, learning the things a son typically would since my pappy didn't have any and I was the oldest, meaning I grew up as a bit of a tomboy cause of that."

"Damn, a working woman who isn't afraid to get her hands dirty, huh?" He asked, seeming impressed by her statement. Looking at her, it was apparent she was no stranger to hard work and loved to spend time in the gym. That was good because they were going to push the team together. "I like that. What did you grow?"

"Livestock and crops," Came her vague first answer as she had been about to take a drink from her glass before she continued. "Cattle and corn specific since we had the acreage for both, so there wasn't time for lazin' about or daydreaming."

"As for getting my hands dirty, nothing more satisfying than having a beer after a hard day's work that needs doing."

He finished his drink as she talked and waved at the bartender to bring him another. When it arrived, he picked it up and took an immediate sip.

"I may not be a farm boy, but I know a hard day's work. I was a gladiator trainer and a hand-to-hand instructor at the Imperial Academy before I got talked into this trip. I've worked many men far past where they thought they could go to get the best out of them. We must push our limits if we want greatness and glorify the Empire. That's what I believe."

He spoke with a particular attentionless convention that didn't waver and didn't look for approval. He believed what he said.

"Lifting cows. Is that where you got those nice legs, or do they make you work in the Marines?" He asked, teasing her and offering a slightly more easy smile. This time, it seemed he was of the will to make her laugh.

Though it didn't earn him a laugh, Julius would catch a smirk behind the rim of her glass as she took a drink with a little bit of an 'oh brother' eye roll. "Lifting cows is what got them started; Marines just made them perfect."

"Well, I can see you take your gym time seriously. I respect that. I spend hours a day, so it's good to see we have the same hobby." He took another sip, looking at her. "I can't wait to get you to the sparring mat and knock you on your back. It's a passion of mine."

"I'm always up for sparring, though you won't find me so easy to knock on my ass." She moved to take a sip of her drink before speaking again. "Or get me on my back."

"I specialize in one of those. Considered close to the top of my field," he said and then shrugged. It was confident and, for some strange reason, charming. "I'm confident I can knock you on your ass or get you on your back. Very confident."

The Marine cockiness in her wanted to place a bet on that but reading what was expected of them. The rather explicit fraternization rules that Lieutenant Cassiel had put in here made the woman think better of it as she sipped her lager. "So where did they drag you out of?"

"The gladiatorial ring. I wasn't a fighter but a trainer. I'm a mixed martial arts expert, and I've trained some of the toughest legends of recent years." He answered, a quiet pride overtaking him. "The academy recruited me to teach hand-to-hand combat and self-defense, so I agreed and split my life between my passion and beating up fleeters for pay. I wanted to own a Lanista gladiator school and develop my philosophy of the fight. But, I let the brass talk me into deploying for a year for the experience before I left the fleet for good, and… that's why I'm sipping this drink across from you right now."

"Went to see a gladiator match once in the Denver Coliseum." She offered up since it seemed that was his bread and butter. "Emperor's Ascension day was this big affair with the family; the match that sticks out to me is a big battle royale."

"They faced off against some big beast after that looked like an ape but had a horn on its head, a mugono, I think?" She was unsure of the right name for the alien beast, but it had been a rather brutal but inspiring affair to watch.

"Mugato!" He responded with sudden excitement in his voice. "Those fucking things can tear shit up. They are deadly to one man, but you've got a fighting chance if you get three or four after them. I'm assuming they won? Or did you essentially watch three men crushed to death as a little girl?"

"It was a pretty brutal match," The woman agreed, chuckling softly at his excitement, finding more charming than his bravado. Still, that didn't make up for his initial impression of acting like a massive creep with her. She wasn't sure why he'd done it that way, but as they say, 'you do you.' "

"We didn't watch the full fight with the mugato, though one of the slaves survived the match and earned his freedom, which had everyone cheering for the Emperor."

"He must have shredded that thing then. I once coached a team against two mugato. It was brutal. Those things work together better than you'd think. It was a six-man team; only four got out, covered head to toe in blood. Some of it theirs, some of it mugato, and some of it their dead friends'. Gods, I miss the fight. I'd give anything to be back there in the action." he said, his eyes glowing at the idea as he leaned back in his chair, polishing off his second drink when he was done, not bothering to show moderation. "Was the Emperor there? Or one of his kids, maybe?"

"While Denver's a right fine city and the Coliseum's gorgeous and modern," Bryana smirked a little at the question, she loved where she grew up; even with the city being the heart of Imperial power in their province, it wasn't quite enough to warrant a visit from the Imperial Dynasty. "Ascension Days are overseen by an Adjunct sent from the Imperial Court, though there's still a lot of fanfare for the representative of the Imperial personage."

"Public executions, parades, a week-long celebration with work quotas suspended, it's all a lot of fun."

"I was normally so busy getting ready for the games I didn't even poke my head up to see all that," he answered honestly. He looked at her again, keeping his eyes planted on hers. "So, why the Marines, Bri?"

"Because I felt like I needed to do my part for the Empire, I love farm life, and it loves me, but I also felt I needed to get away from home and see the galaxy." Her answer was the truth, it might have sounded hokey to a Fleetie, but it was her reason. "My parents' feet have never left the soil of Earth, never really been outside DenCon, and while I think it's just the prettiest place in the galaxy, I wanted to have a different experience."

“Adventurous farm girl?” He asked, his interest seeming mild. Besides his glances at her, he seemed mostly interested in figuring her out between their bouts of conversation. “You should have joined the fleet.”

"Maybe if I didn't want to work a day of my service." She snorted and downed the remainder of her lager before pushing the empty glass aside. "Fleet tried to get me, but I signed on with the Marines because I wanted to be in the action, not staring at a console, tapping away at buttons during a fight."

"Curious how that's workin' for ya, hot shot. From my perspective, we're sitting here in the same bar looking at each other." Julius said, watching as she slid the drink away. "As far as I've seen in, you and your crew sit holed up in your section all day, and we don't hear from you, even on our away missions. You ready to admit you made the wrong choice yet?"

"We'll call it a difference of opinions, Chief." She tilted her head, dark eyes meeting his. "We've seen plenty of action since getting dragged to the ass end of the galaxy."

"We might not always leave the ship to go on a jaunty little stroll planetside, but we make sure there's a ship to return to." She raised her hand and started counting off the things the Marines did. "We've taken part in one form or fashion in the operations here in the DQ; Helping rescue our people from the Ocampans, pulling Fleetie's bacon out of the fire when the Vidiians beamed over their science experiments and troopers; Just like Security, the Marines were there when we took the Vidiian ship for the fleet."

"We might not have been there to help take back the Kazon ship and rescue Commander Petrov; that was a decision made by the Brass; we can't make them use our resources." She continued, keeping her eyes locked on Julius'. "So we've been doing plenty by my count; even when it seems like we are lazing about doing fuck all, we're still drilling to be the sharp point of the spear, maintaining our gear and ourselves."

"We might not do jack-of-all-trades like Fleeties, but we kick ass like no others." She stated proudly. "To address your comment about being stuck on this boat, a seventy-year trip will be the absolute suck. We're here, and we can either belly ache about it or accept that bitter horse pill and swallow it to get it over with. It's a fact that ain't changing anytime soon."

“No hope, huh? I’m surprised by that. I thought feel-good farm girls from Colorado like to look on the bright side.” He said, the toughness of his voice not betraying anything, be it amusement or mockery. “Still, I’m glad you can deal with shit the way it is. That’s an important skill to have in a tin can full of kids who can’t face reality.”

"I've plenty of hope, but I'm pragmatic and just looking at the facts." She shrugged while leaning back in her seat, her gaze shifting to the nebula outside. "Despite what hokey holovids do to portray farm living as easygoing and having a sweet, down-home charm, we're a practical people that understand everything isn't going to be sunshine and rainbows all the time."

"I'm torn up inside knowing that I'll likely never see any of my family again, knowing they'll live their lives without an inkling of what happened out here to us," Her expression shifted, expressing the sadness in her voice before she looked back to Julius. "I'll never get to see any nieces or nephews, and I'll only ever be a story to them."

"I'm still human. Still have my feelings and emotions, but this isn't a problem I can solve, so got to move on to the ones I can. Pragmatism."

“That’s what we’re going to do.” He said, not venturing into his own feelings very far. He was a pretty tightly wound person when it came to his own private feelings on certain things. Trust was needed. “We’re going to build a team to rival any in this quadrant. Maybe you should get some sleep since I’m planning on putting you on your back tomorrow, and you’ll need it.”

"Yeah, yeah, Jules." Bryana shook her head, shifting to get to her feet and head back to the barracks since it was really time for her to turn in. She paused and turned to look at the nebula. "You think they really found something of worth in that mess out there?"

He shrugged at the question.

"At this point, the Captain seems to be pretty damn good at finding priceless shit in the middle of nowhere." he said, giving a slight nod, "So I'd say I think it's possible. Of course, I'm no egg head, and I don't know the heads or tails of nebulas."

"Fair enough." With a shrug, the Marine nodded and then gave Julius a nod of her head. "See you in the AM, Jules."

With that she headed for the exit to catch a few z's and be ready for the morning.

“Bright and early.” He said, and watched her go with a sort of determined look in his eyes. His eyes followed behind her, studying her muscular curves and admiring quietly for a while. He didn’t ogle or look interested in particular, but he did admire. And then, when she was gone from the lounge, he turned back to the bar. Another drink or two wouldn’t hurt him any. Before he hit the hay.

END