RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Off-Duty 1.0] Choosing Poisons

Laura grinned sheepishly with her upraised glass. "The Marines!" she toasted happily. "To the fearless, undaunted Marines," Bernhard echoed and took a large sip.

"So how old are you?" Laura asked Alex, curious about her clone sister.

------------------

"I'm sorry to hear that," Leon said when he heard about Phaedra's batch. "Live for them, I guess."

A moment later, he started to answer her question about siblings. "It's difficult in a way being the oldest but it's easy too. Difficult 'cos if I've got a lot of expectations on me. If I fail, it takes a while to live it down. But then, it's easy because I'm the oldest and everything I do is the first amongst the siblings. Especially because I'm the only boy so its different expectations on me than the girls."

"What would you do if you discharged tomorrow?" he asked her off-hand.

Alex placed her glass on the table and looked at Laura with interest. She wondered why did they clone her so young. She looked so helpless and frail. She would assume someone as Phaedra or Rita would be better marine-clone material. Alex was curious about Laura.

"I am about five years old." Alex said to Laura. "Although physicaly I am about twenty-three, twenty-four. Well that is good thing about being clone. You look older then you are, while you cells are actually only few years old. How old are you lass?" She asked and laughed, waiving at waiter for a refill of her glass.

"Live for them, I guess." said Leon. Phaedra nodded gravely.

"If you only knew who was responsible for their deaths..." she thought. Phaedra returned her attention to Leon and listened intently to him describe his family life. And then he changed subjects complete and threw her off guard.

"What would you do if you discharged tomorrow?"

That question completely stumped Phaedra. She turned away from Leon and contemplated her empty shotglass. She had not thought about life outside of the military very much. After furrowing her brow and giving this question much deliberation, she turned back to Leon and answered.

"I would try to find any living family of my predecessor, Lieutenant Commander Tanya Volkov," said Phaedra seriously. She produced a photograph from her wallet, which she retrieved from her front pants pocket. She set the photograph on the bar and slid it over so that Leon could see. The the woman in the photograph looked identical to Phaedra, save for the fact that her face was free of scars and cybernetics and her hair was dark brown.

"She was killed in the Battle for Nepleslia. She is the reason I was cloned."

Bastilen plucked the cigarette from his lips and held it between his fingers, rolling the cancer-stick back and forth. He exhaled a little sharply a small amount smoke rolling from the edge of his lips. The mention of his lack of rank bars always brought a little fatigue to the man. Once again he cast a furtive glance in Lisa's direction, before looking a the bartender preparing them a drink. Seeing now that she was getting him a drink rose a sick feeling in his stomach that made him bite his lip. Just what was he going to do when that beverage got here? Not drink it? Absurd.

"I'm on parole out of Abjection." said Bastilen simply, watching the bartender pour his glass with a hawk's eyes.

It took a few moments for Henry to notice Samuel sitting next to him and asking a question. It took a moment more to process it and for Henry to extricate himself from his mindspace and return his conscious thoughts to reality.

"The 4th Fleet, hm," Henry put his elbows on table and swirled his drink around idly on the table, watching the motions, "The first impressions weren't exactly all that flash. Surely you heard about that debacle with the Nekovalkyrja practically screwing the Admiral and fucking the rest of us after the previous successes of the Acadia under Vel Steyr," He sighed, "Vel Steyr was boring, but he didn't make stupid decisions."

He leaned back and glanced at Phadera and Santiago, "Now I have to worry about stupid decisions coming from people closer to home. Its like that Nekovalkyrja is haunting this damned crew from afar."

Lisa whistled and looked the man in the face. He seemed very calm. He might be a loner or something like that, it might be because of his time in the prison though. She wondered what he do to get there. It was only the wort prison IPG had. One that no one could supposedly escape.

"Well lucky you," she said and gave bartende another look. He was taking his sweet time with the drinks. "You got out." She said to explain why he was so lucky.

"Was reeducated and released on good behavior." muttered Bastilen as the alcoholic beverage was placed in front of him. A certain uneasiness welled up inside of him as he stared at the frothy glass. For that moment he chose to resist downing the stouty mixture, and stuck to his own drink, ignoring the one bought for him. After taking another swig of SLAM, he finally gave Lisa a square look, the darkened, scarred flesh around his eyes giving off an uneasy vibe. "No one gets out of Abjection. They let you out, like a dog on a leash."

"Well still..." she responed as she pulled her new beer in fron of herself and inspecting it with her eyes. "Still I bet there are many that do not get out at all. I won't ask you what fot you there, that is your bussiness. I am okay with you even saying it. I bet many would keep that for themselves. It could could get you distrust after all. You are honest though and I can appreciate that." She said. Lisa did not drink yet though, she waited for him to finish his Slam first she could knock glassess with him later.

"It's a tip, don't you have those around here? Common courtesy, a worker's worthy of their wages, all that crap." Samuel insisted, pushing the DA back at the bartender. He took a sip from his drink as he listened to Henry talk, letting him vent about some old mission, about how awesome his old boss had been. Samuel was more concerned about living through his deployment than having successful missions, so by that standard, the Sarge was doing a bang-up job.

"Haunting you? Why, what happened with you and the Nekos? I must've been in training or something, out of the loop. Didn't hear nothing about it." He stared into his drink as he finished, trying to calculate the trajectories of the bubbles in it, watching them rise and knock against each other.

"Yeah." was Bastilen's response as he drank down the last of the remaining SLAM in the can he held. He crunched it under his fingers, before tossing it to the far off trash can.

Plink! Pah-plink, plink, plink. Went the can as it bounced off the rim of the trash-can.

"Damn it." the Tech Expert cursed, before sliding off his stool to pick up the can. He bent over at the waist, tucking a hand on his knee, before lobbing the SLAM in the trashcan. He seemed generally displeased by his poor can-throwing performance, showing the distaste on his face. When he sat back down, he sat one extra seat away from Lisa. For the moment he mildly stewed in his building frustrations, before looking at the beer she had bought him.

The man reached out to grab it, scooping it up and downing a bit of the glass's contents.

Laura tried to count. Time had certainly been playing tricks on her. Alcohol didn't help much either. "Almost two this March," she replied.

The bartender filled up Alex's glass and moved along. Bernhard listened as close as he could. A loose-tongued Romero could give him a better idea of what went on in her head. And that could help him work to stabilise her mental bi-polarism. "I'm not even sure who Romero is... It's just the name they gave me when I was able to concentrate," Laura mused. There was no regret in her voice, just bemusement.

-------------------

"I can see the likeness. But you know its possible to get the scarring healed now? Not that it doesn't add character but it's rare to find someone who keeps a scar that visible," Leon said. Not unless you want to be reminded of something

Then he saw a Marinewalk in and look out of place for a moment. "Must be a newcomer if he can't tell what's going on. I don't recognize him from the briefing either," Leon pointed the man out to Phaedra.

--------------------

"4th Fleet is owed an unpayable debt of gratitude by the Jiyuuian people. Nothing would be left of Tange if not for 4th Fleet," thee man who had just entered said as he passed Henry and Samuel. His voice gave a sense that he took personal offense to the idea of 4th Fleet being below par.

------------------

The bartender nearest to Lisa and Bastilen slid two steins of beers over to them.

Corporal Holmes and one of his female squad members were seated a couple stools down from Lisa and Bastilen. "Pardon me for eavesdropping but if the rumor about you is true, you were at Kennewes. I admit its none of my business but I'm curious," Holmes interrupted the couple. His companion, a woman with short brown hair, just looked expectantly for an answer.

--------------------

The soldier turned his head in the Corporal's direction, his expression quite incredulous. Just what in the name of Nepleslia was driving everyone to be so privy? What happened to asking how smoggy the weather was? How did people already know about him? Even if he was a unique case, he thought people would at least give him a little space. All of a sudden people were asking about him, and being rather friendly. With all his exposure to the IPG, he wasn't sure if this was a test or if these people were really this nice.

"Yeah." said Bastilen, shooting the couple a glance, before looking back down at his drink, "Second wave, after the initial assault."

"I have my reasons..." said Phaedra, her gaze falling to her glass again. She could easily have had her scars removed, and her cybernetics replaced with more cosmetic models. But regardless of how Phaedra looked on the outside; she knew the scars would still remain.

Then Leon pointed out the new arrival. Phaedra looked up from her glass, immediately recognizing the familiar face that had just entered the bar.

"He is a friend," said Phaedra. "Let me introduce him to you; wait right here."

Phaedra stood up from leaning against the bar and strode over to where Motoyama was making his way through the bar's other occupants.

"I am suprised to see you here, Mid-Corporal," said Phaedra from behind. She waited until he turned around before extending her hand.

"Motoyama, it is good to see you again," she said with a small smile.

"Sergeant Volkov," Motoyama greeted her, "My people owe you and your Marines our lives. The Jiyuuian spirit will live on because of you and in spite of what Yamatai and the NMX try to do." He turned and bowed deeply to her, almost 90 degrees.

Back at the bar, Leon Santiago rocked his head. The man was bowing to her. Impressive. His stiff, formal posture meant that it was not a mere pass. It was something of significance. Wait, didn't the Admiral say something about ex-Peacekeepers being absorbed into the Marines? Santiago scratched his chin. If that were true, then the man must be a Jiyuuian and he would have much to feel gratitude for.

------------------

Holmes nodded. "I was first wave. Don't need to say more than that on the matter. Was just curious. Fewer and fewer Kennewes veterans around. Some retire and some retire permanently," he said to Bastilen. "Hope it's the former for you."

Phaedra was taken aback when Motoyama bowed deeply before her. Phaedra awkwardly dropped her hand and then bowed slightly in return.

"Come this way, Mid-Corporal. I would like to introduce you to my superior," said Phaedra, motioning with her hand towards where Leon was at the bar. Phaedra glanced around, noticing the large number of gazes staring in her direction. She hated being singled out in a crowd like this.

Chad walked into the bar with red eyes and smiles, which was essentially how he walked into any room. With new a new beret on his head, and one of the original uniforms he started his long career as a Private 3rd Class, he waltz up to the bar with new the new determination to leave his mark at a party, which promised to be eventful because this was his first 4 hours in the Fourth and he was surrounded by who had not met him yet.

An open bar night for marines of his new platoon was all he needed to know to set his initiative in motion and down to the above mentioned festivities, Chad was not one to leisurely sit by as free booze was being served within his general location. As always, Chad was fully prepared to make an ass of himself.

He sat at the bar down from a group of marines. Spinning the chair around and placing his arms on the bar and leaning backwards, he gained for himself a vantage point from where he could see the whole room and its occupants. He ordered a drink, "Oi! Bar sever guy, Vodka and shot glass down here pronto, holmes." Then he began his observation of the room.

He immediately saw something that peaked his interest, and raised one of his eyebrows in alarm. Pale Scary Chick?

He sat up a little and leaned forward a bit waving one of his hands and somewhat a screaming at his former comrade and proceeded to let Pheadra know he was there. "Pheadra, yo! How's it hanging? Remember me? I threw up on you while we were serving under that bitch Neko."

Bastilen turned his attentions back onto the table itself, feeling very tired. He took his drink, and downed some of the alcohol inside, the mind-numbing warmth being very welcome.

"Yeah..."

"Phaedra, yo! How's it hanging? Remember me? I threw up on you while we were serving under that bitch Neko!" shouted someone. Phaedra turned to look for whoever shouted her name. Then she caught eyes with Chad.

Phaedra certainly remembered him. She punched him in the jaw for randomly firing his sidearm in the mess hall, apparently to impress Harm, the resident Neko at the time. Phaedra frowned and then turned away; she continued back towards Leon's position with Motoyama in tow.

Corporal Motoyama straightened and glared at the young man who had spoken. Half his mind had been to berate the young man for such familiarity with a superior officer. But since Phaedra had not deigned to pay attention, he would follow suit. Without a word, he turned to follow Sergeant Volkov to meet her superior.

It surely was not the Admiral. Doubtful that he would be in such a raucous party. So who could it be?

---------------------

Near the bar, Corporal Holmes thought he heard someone call him name. But as he looked around, no one seemed to be trying to get his attention. So he returned to Bastilen.

"Well, I'll leave you be."

----------------------

"Hey Sawyer, how many drinks does it take for you to get drunk? Bernhard says it takes me three but I've already had four!" Laura asked Sawyer.

"Well screw you too," Chad muttered to himself as Phaedra gave him the cold shoulder. What was even more of an awkward meeting was the glare he got from the Yamataian looking man whom Phaedra had apparently leaped up to meet. Needless to say, when someone gives you a stupid look is to give them an even more theatrical stupid look and turn around back to the bar.

Chad did just that.

"Hey man, I am way more hydrated than I need to be at this time. I feel the need to slowly kill myself, drink please!" He shouted down the bar at the tender of spirits.