Can Smell A Marine At Fifty Paces

Posted on Fri Mar 17th, 2017 @ 11:30am by Captain Rueben Gregnol

Mission: Mission 3 - Negligence
Location: Bajor, Calash
Timeline: MD 01 :: 12:00
1376 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

It was easy to see that Rueben was fed up of having Brent Cadascott and Starfleet Intelligence dictate to him what he could and couldn't do. Three years ago his life had been so easy and uncomplicated - Beautiful fiancee, days from being married and Executive Officer of one of the most up to date ships. He had, had everything that he needed to make himself feel complete and fulfilled and he had wrecked it by just asking someone to search for Barton causing the wrong person to attack his shuttle, kill three crewmembers who had been on board at the time and left him out in the cold relying on the corrupt end of Starfleet to keep the people he cared about alive. He lent his head back frustrated by the PaDD that had been left.

"Pardon?" He asked as someone spoke to him.

"Just asking what you might like," replied the thin Asian man standing behind the counter of the bar. He had shoulder length long hair and a slight goatee. Sunglasses were partly perched down the bridge of his nose. "Welcome to Quantum Jump. Open 20 hours a day. I'm your barkeep. So what's your pleasure...or poison? I can provide either, so long as it's a drink."

He smiled and shrugged, "You seemed like you were lost in thought. You want to talk about it?" As he claimed the bar top, his Hawaiian style shirt sleeve rode a little bit up on his right upper arm, showing a Starfleet Marines tattoo.

"Whiskey!" The Captain said with a quick glance over the man. He frowned a little at the sun glasses inside the bar and the bold shirt but who was he to judge wearing sullen black and a leather jacket despite the heat outside. "Marine?" He grunted nodding towards the tattoo.

Quang glanced toward his right arm. "That?" he answered. "Yes indeed. 24 years. I was a quartermaster and armorer. Interesting job for the most part."

With that the east asian pulled a bottle of whiskey, bottled from a tellarite distillery. Amazingly good blend and easy to obtain due to relative distance. He filled a replicated cut crystal glass with it, and slid it toward him.

"There you go," Tran said. "Let me know what you think. New bottler. Good reputation though."

Rueben nodded at the glass and raised it in a mock salute to the man before he downed the glass. "Might as well leave the bottle. I am going to be needing it." He said bluntly when the man didn't leave the bottle he sighed a little. "Fine. Be like that. So did you fight in the Dominion Wars?" Many good men fought and died in the war that shouldn't have happened.

"No problem," replied Tran. He set the bottle on counter top. He wasn't worried. He had been in this situation before, and was generally a good judge of character. In this if little else.

He picked up the bar rag and wiped down the clear toughened acrylic plastic counter top. "Yes I served in the Dominion War. A nasty bit of work. I checked out two-three years ago. Been working in this field ever since. Here, there, etcetera. You served in the Dominion War as well."

"Too young." Rueben said with a small snort. He had joined Starfleet because of the Dominion War and wanting to defend his mother land and the universe, now he wasn't doing either. "Where did you serve in it?" He had heard legends of some of the engagements Nox - the planet of no daylight, Betazed, Rodac III.

"It was a rough war," Tran commented simply. "If you weren't there it's hard to explain. It's hard to deal with that much relentless fanaticism."

He paused and then continued after his memories had passed. "I served in it, nothing remarkable but at the front. I also served in the Proxima 14 campaign, and the insurrection on New Paris a few years ago. That was nasty. Street to street, limited supplies, and an invisible enemy. That was probably the worst."

"Dominion War still haunts the Federation. It made my job harder." Rueben thought of all the procedures that he had to do and make people follow when he was security.

"It was a red hot mess that was an object lesson in what happens when lunatics run the asylum," answered Tran. "In this case the Dominion decided to start a war for no good reason. Fun people."

He paused, and then continued. "They ought to be in clown starships, with the Jem Hadar piling out in a mob."

Rueben let out a bark of genuine laughter as he thought about the Jem Hadar as clowns. The thought was an interesting one, he could just see the white face paint on them now. They wouldn't be so scary to people who had grown up in the war. He had been lucky that he had been 15 and old enough to know deep down even when Earth was attacked and the Golden Gate Bridge, the very symbol of Starfleet destroyed that they would eventually win.

He tried to figure out an escape from this tar pit. "So what did you do in Starfleet?"

"Security." Rueben smiled fondly as he thought about his choice of being a Security Officer. "Once upon a time i was a good guy and wanted to protect and serve." He admitted downing another glass of the alcohol admiring the burn in the back of his throat as it went down far to easily.

"A good job and an important one," said the Asian bartender. "Maybe you're still a good man. Maybe you just need to look at yourself again and not think that you're a deity. Most people judge themselves too harshly."

He paused to let that sink in, and then moved to verbally distract. That classic bartender's trick. "So what do you now?" He asked innocently.

All his deities had left a very long time ago, the day the whole mess started. Rueben smiled, he knew distraction methods, it was a good security trick in an investigation or incident.

"I am a Captain of a Civilian vessel." He admitted. "SS Mary Rose" The ship was old, falling apart and he was convinced that not all the secretes had been revealed by her yet but it was his ship now and he was proud of the work people had put into it so far.

"That's nice," Quang said with a smile. "Not a bad way to live. I always liked to travel myself. What are your ports of call?" Inwardly he was wanting more information. This might be a good way off Bajor.

"We work port to port. Paying passenger, cargo runs that type of thing." There weren't any set ports of call. Originally the mission had been get to Heg’La Space Station on the outer edge of Federation space but did he really want to go there now? Did he need to go there if he was making SS Mary Rose a legitimate business.

"Still good," replied Tran. "Depending on the ride, that's still a good arrangement. If I had an option something like that might not be a bad one. You're a lucky guy, you need to remember that."

Rueben shrugged, sometimes he felt lucky then other times he felt like the universe hated him but that was down to his own thoughts and self doubts about how things over the last few years had gone and changed. He looked at his glass and poured another glass downing it.

"You could be lucky as well Marine. Thank you for at least trying." Rueben muttered standing up as he saw the Bajoran woman coming towards him to guide him to his booked table. He slapped down on the bar more than enough to cover the whiskey he had drunk as he took the bottle following the old woman.

Quang nodded toward the merchant captain. He turned his attention toward the floor. As he viewed it, one of his jobs was to ensure the safety of the waitstaff. This could be a rowdy bunch.

OFF:

Captain Rueben Gregnol
Commanding Officer
SS Mary Rose

Quang Tran
Barkeeper
Bajor, Calash