Judgement – Don't Know Much About History
by 1st Lieutenant Joseph Bailey & Commander Richard Dunham
Post Details
ON:
He'd been here a day, having had the Dauntless drop him off. He hadn't reported to his commanding officer, unpacked any of his stuff, properly met anyone, or even looked around the station any.
Joseph's first port of call had been the promenade, the selling point of any station. It had shops that he wouldn't buy anything from, shipping company's he wouldn't ship anything with and a bookshop coffeehouse he wouldn't read anything from, but it did have bars. That he WOULD buy alcohol from.
And not that knock-off 'it's real alcohol! (But actually it's synthanol)' stuff, it was real booze. And it wasn't one of those 'secret poker night round a friends quarters' jobs either, you could actually go out and get sloshed in a bar. Though security, the establishment and general society may have a problem with that.
The 1st Lieutenant had been sitting at the bar for about 10 minutes, slowly taking a sip from his glass, surveying the place. It was massive. It put the Galaxy class interiors, which he had once naively thought were the largest interiors Starfleet had to offer, to shame.
Rick was heading back to the red lion pub, possibly for the third or forth time today. He briefly considered that in the last seven hours he had been in this bar more today then his entire time here on deep space five. Rick reflected that this probably had something to do with pre-wedding jitters, and accepted the fact that he needed something to calm his nerves (again). This was a little ironic as Rick didn't often drink.
As he entered the predominantly starfleet orientated bar, he looked around for anyone he recognized, didn't see anyone so headed over straight to the bar, promising to himself that this would be his last drink today, and for another month.
He arrived at the bar and ordered himself a pint of black sheep, he gave a polite smile to the marine already sitting their as Rick propped himself up on a bar stool.
"Afternoon." Bailey nodded, as the officer in the striking blue collar leant himself up against the bar beside him. The pilot's order suprised him, following the assumption that those who live in a cockpit only drink martini's, or some kind of spirit filled with some exotic fruit from a faraway planet he'd never heard of.
He looked a bundle of nerves. As though the drink he clasped in his hand was a magical elixer that would melt away all his troubles, which looked numerous.
"Federation credit for your thoughts.. Commander." The soldier said, craning his head around to catch a look at his companion's collar pips.
Rick looked at the marine and smiled as he took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, found yourself a nice girl and settle down, it will be the best thing to ever happen to you." Rick then appraised the Marine for a moment "We don't see many marines out of the barracks...."
"And we don't see many people say that a nice girl is the best thing that ever happened to you." The Lieutenant smirked. "Well, that's a lie. Everybody bloody says it, don't they? Only, I don't see it. The only women I seem to know are burly soldiers, prostitutes, or my Mother." He said, with a distant stare someone gets when they look back with resentment. A 1000 yard stare of bitterness and awkward, costly, wrong-end-of-town experience.
"Not that the last two are in any way related." Joe jolted, realising how poorly a light that could have cast on his Mummy. "But anyway, nevermind." He awkwardly said, thinking of a way to avoid an awkward silence, or a lingering thought that his mother could be a woman of the night.
"None of the marines come out of the barracks?" Bailey said with a renewed interested. "I'm not sure if that's a sign of how boring they are, or a blessing that I don't have to bump into my Sergeants if I'm out drinking enough to fill a small cargo bay and end my night with no trousers and a new cat." He remembered fondly.
He certainly didn't seem like your average human. Rick wondered if he was even from earth; with his odd manner and controversial topics of conversation, and if he was from earth was he from the same one Rick was. Still the Marine had totally distracted Rick from his own problems and had his complete attention. Rick nodded his head in agreement. "Yep none of the Marines come out of the barracks often....." he trailed off as he had a thought.
"You'd know that after only a couple days in that place. You new? Just arrived?" Rick scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully then chuckled, which turned into an outright laugh. "Brilliant, that means you haven't met your new boss yet." Rick grinned like a Cheshire cat "Enjoy" he said ironically though with a touch of sympathy .
"Your face is saying good, but your eyes are saying bad. By boss I'm presuming you mean Colonel something-or-other? What's wrong with him?" Joseph questioned, a worry in the back of his mind growing. "He isn't a Klingon is he? Or one of those types who demands I wake up at 6 every morning even if I'm not on duty that day and stand outside my door with my toothbrush to make sure I'm clean? Or is he one of those hip young Colonel's who think's he's 'down with the kids' and a laidback Colonel we can all talk to? Or he isn't a she is he? Women Colonel's are very uncool." The marine babbled, his mouth running away with him. Again.
"But yes, I'm new." The brown haired, less-muscley-than-your-average-marine answered the man's question at last. "1st Lieutenant Joe Bailey. Gun for hire." He introduced, extending a hand to be shook. "Only not for hire. And with no gun. People don't seem to like my walking around with weapons. Apparently I'm not trustworthy." The officer drifted off again. "Sorry, you are?"
Rick took the hand and shook it warmly "Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham, Station CAG. Pleasure to meet you." Rick smiled then took another swig of his beer. This marine certainly seemed like a bit of an odd hat to him, not to uncharacteristic of Marines though, they were a different breed. "And as for your Colonel James Darson, god only knows what he is....he wheres mask and a hooded cape for heavens sake." Rick roled his eyes.
"Sweet!!" Joseph exclaimed in genuine excitement. It was like being 10 again, where you'd play holonovels and have this one massively scary guy who used to be a bad guy on your side, only now he's a dark and mysterious good guy. "Why does everyone around here seem too serious? Is this place devoid of fun and awesomeness, or have I missed some massive catastrophe?"
Rick flipped a bar mat or two as he pondered the answer to the posed question. The marines response had been another odd one, so this guy; in Rick's opinion wasn't your average marine. "Recently or just in general?" asked Rick, the question carried a lot more weight, than you might expect.
The seriousness in the Commander's face brought down Bailey's carefree casuality of the matter, as though he'd touched a nerve. Given the serious looks of pretty much everyone he'd seen since arriving, it looked as though these were strained times on the station, and the use of diplomacy may be more tactful that almost insinuating his own mother was a streetwalker.
"You looked a bundle of nerves when you walked in." Joseph replied. "So how about both?"
"Well" said Rick thoughtfully scratching the stubble on his chin. "Where to start?" It was a rhetorical question, Rick took a sip of his beer, to fortify himself. "Ok, here we go......Romulan attacks on the station, urrrrmmm, temporal rifts in space, Maquis terrorist take over the station, political and Machiavellian intrigue between the various embassies, some murders, the chief of security is on trial and I'm getting married in the morning."
'Bloody hell' Bailey thought to himself as the pilot listed off the events. 'Where have I got myself posted? It's like something out of a sci-fi holonovel.'
"As in tomorrow morning?!" He exclaimed, looking at the mans drink, which by now was only half full. Hailing down the barman, he ordered him another drink, and thought he'd join his companion in this Black Sheep beverage. "Cheers!" The 1st Lieutenant said, raising his glass. "Wait, have you had a stag do yet?"
Rick nodded and smiled his agreement “Yep getting married tomorrow morning, and no I haven’t had a stag do, and no I’m not going to have one, because I have to work tonight, and after this I’m going back to my quarters to pop a couple of fast acting detox pills and head over to the office. “ He looked at the bubbles in his beer “Alas such is life on Deep Space five….you will find that your days get very very crowded. Sometimes you feel that you’re in two places at once”
"That's only because YOU'RE a department head!" Joe chuckled. "I'm here to make up the numbers, the modern day equivalent to an away team red shirt. Only with more to say, and much better looking. As such, I don't have the same nagging responsibility to sit in an office, sober." He explained in jest, taking more of his drink.
"Are you sure you're not out for a drink after work? I can't pull the 'you're my only friend on the station' line and have you drink enough to fill a Type 9 shuttle, so you'll go home with no shoes, someone else's comm badge and a new sofa for your quarters?" The marine tempted. "Starfleet are very good at hangover cures nowadays. It's like we're living in the future! We've got spaceships and laser guns and all kinds of crap! They could sort your hangover right out!" He continued, hoping to slowly drag his new found friend down with him.
That was true, the powers of modern medicine meant that a hangover in the morning could be solved with a simple injection from a hypo spray, but Rick had plans for tonight. "Sorry mate, I got plans, but I'll be happy to get you out for a drink at some point."
"Judas!" Bailey laughed. "That's fine, I tried! I'll just try and find someone else to corrupt." Looking about the place for another potential plucky, young, naive officer to influence. "Besides, I doubt Mrs Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham, Station CAG, won't be too happy if you go home smelling of vomit and plasma."
Rick chuckled "Being the stations chief medical officer she's probably use to that sort of thing." This marine certainly had a unique and colorful personality; if just a little peculiar, no peculiar was the wrong word. The word Rick was searching for was different. He wondered if most marine officers were like this as his only frame of reference had been the Colonel and his immediate staff.
"She's the stations chief medical officer!?" Joe recoiled in surprise. "Man alive! What're you doing??" He took down more of his drink to try and sooth his seemingly aggressive surprise. "Doctors are probably the WORST people to go out with! Besides intelligence personnel. Or Captains. Or strategic operations staff. Or female marines. Or Borg. But they're still near the top of the list!" The soldier ranted. "She will always worry about you, and if you innocently sneeze in your sleep, she's going to go bonkers and think you have a severe-to-lethal case of Andorian flu and have your nose amputated. And you don't want to lose your nose Commander! It's like, right in the middle of your face! You'd notice if someone didn't have a nose!"
"Your bit odd aren't you" said Rick matter of factly as he took a sip of his beer again.
"Yeah, maybe a little bit." Bailey replied, following suit with the beer drinking. "I'm sure your nose will be fine."
Odd bloke to just sit their and insult a superior officers wife to be, Rick was in half a mind just lay a blow on the guys chin, but he set those emotions aside, and just felt sympathy for a man he seemed to talk first and think later, it would be interesting to see how long he would last on a station like this one. He drained the last of his beer, "Catch you later 1st Lieutenant" said Rick getting himself up from his bar stool.
"See you later, sir." The young officer said, pointing a finger on his forehead in a lazy salute, staying slumped on his stool and taking another sip of his drink.
After the pleasant chat with the Commander, he suddenly realised again that he knew absolutely no one on this station, and hadn't in fact yet even reported to anyone that he was here. Maybe the next priority on the list after finishing his drink. Besides, it can't be that bad, he was sure the station could survive the next 10 minutes without him, it seemed to have done ok without him so far. Though maybe not, based on Dunham's history lesson.
OFF:
JP between:
CAG Squadron Leader
Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham
&
Marine Platoon Commander
1st Lieutenant Joseph Bailey
by 1st Lieutenant Joseph Bailey & Commander Richard Dunham
Post Details
| Title | Don't Know Much About History | |
| Mission | Judgement | |
| Author(s) | 1st Lieutenant Joseph Bailey & Commander Richard Dunham | |
| Posted | Sun May 15, 2011 @ 2:24pm | |
| Location | The Box Of Delights | |
| Timeline | SD 37 - 1300 |
He'd been here a day, having had the Dauntless drop him off. He hadn't reported to his commanding officer, unpacked any of his stuff, properly met anyone, or even looked around the station any.
Joseph's first port of call had been the promenade, the selling point of any station. It had shops that he wouldn't buy anything from, shipping company's he wouldn't ship anything with and a bookshop coffeehouse he wouldn't read anything from, but it did have bars. That he WOULD buy alcohol from.
And not that knock-off 'it's real alcohol! (But actually it's synthanol)' stuff, it was real booze. And it wasn't one of those 'secret poker night round a friends quarters' jobs either, you could actually go out and get sloshed in a bar. Though security, the establishment and general society may have a problem with that.
The 1st Lieutenant had been sitting at the bar for about 10 minutes, slowly taking a sip from his glass, surveying the place. It was massive. It put the Galaxy class interiors, which he had once naively thought were the largest interiors Starfleet had to offer, to shame.
Rick was heading back to the red lion pub, possibly for the third or forth time today. He briefly considered that in the last seven hours he had been in this bar more today then his entire time here on deep space five. Rick reflected that this probably had something to do with pre-wedding jitters, and accepted the fact that he needed something to calm his nerves (again). This was a little ironic as Rick didn't often drink.
As he entered the predominantly starfleet orientated bar, he looked around for anyone he recognized, didn't see anyone so headed over straight to the bar, promising to himself that this would be his last drink today, and for another month.
He arrived at the bar and ordered himself a pint of black sheep, he gave a polite smile to the marine already sitting their as Rick propped himself up on a bar stool.
"Afternoon." Bailey nodded, as the officer in the striking blue collar leant himself up against the bar beside him. The pilot's order suprised him, following the assumption that those who live in a cockpit only drink martini's, or some kind of spirit filled with some exotic fruit from a faraway planet he'd never heard of.
He looked a bundle of nerves. As though the drink he clasped in his hand was a magical elixer that would melt away all his troubles, which looked numerous.
"Federation credit for your thoughts.. Commander." The soldier said, craning his head around to catch a look at his companion's collar pips.
Rick looked at the marine and smiled as he took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, found yourself a nice girl and settle down, it will be the best thing to ever happen to you." Rick then appraised the Marine for a moment "We don't see many marines out of the barracks...."
"And we don't see many people say that a nice girl is the best thing that ever happened to you." The Lieutenant smirked. "Well, that's a lie. Everybody bloody says it, don't they? Only, I don't see it. The only women I seem to know are burly soldiers, prostitutes, or my Mother." He said, with a distant stare someone gets when they look back with resentment. A 1000 yard stare of bitterness and awkward, costly, wrong-end-of-town experience.
"Not that the last two are in any way related." Joe jolted, realising how poorly a light that could have cast on his Mummy. "But anyway, nevermind." He awkwardly said, thinking of a way to avoid an awkward silence, or a lingering thought that his mother could be a woman of the night.
"None of the marines come out of the barracks?" Bailey said with a renewed interested. "I'm not sure if that's a sign of how boring they are, or a blessing that I don't have to bump into my Sergeants if I'm out drinking enough to fill a small cargo bay and end my night with no trousers and a new cat." He remembered fondly.
He certainly didn't seem like your average human. Rick wondered if he was even from earth; with his odd manner and controversial topics of conversation, and if he was from earth was he from the same one Rick was. Still the Marine had totally distracted Rick from his own problems and had his complete attention. Rick nodded his head in agreement. "Yep none of the Marines come out of the barracks often....." he trailed off as he had a thought.
"You'd know that after only a couple days in that place. You new? Just arrived?" Rick scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully then chuckled, which turned into an outright laugh. "Brilliant, that means you haven't met your new boss yet." Rick grinned like a Cheshire cat "Enjoy" he said ironically though with a touch of sympathy .
"Your face is saying good, but your eyes are saying bad. By boss I'm presuming you mean Colonel something-or-other? What's wrong with him?" Joseph questioned, a worry in the back of his mind growing. "He isn't a Klingon is he? Or one of those types who demands I wake up at 6 every morning even if I'm not on duty that day and stand outside my door with my toothbrush to make sure I'm clean? Or is he one of those hip young Colonel's who think's he's 'down with the kids' and a laidback Colonel we can all talk to? Or he isn't a she is he? Women Colonel's are very uncool." The marine babbled, his mouth running away with him. Again.
"But yes, I'm new." The brown haired, less-muscley-than-your-average-marine answered the man's question at last. "1st Lieutenant Joe Bailey. Gun for hire." He introduced, extending a hand to be shook. "Only not for hire. And with no gun. People don't seem to like my walking around with weapons. Apparently I'm not trustworthy." The officer drifted off again. "Sorry, you are?"
Rick took the hand and shook it warmly "Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham, Station CAG. Pleasure to meet you." Rick smiled then took another swig of his beer. This marine certainly seemed like a bit of an odd hat to him, not to uncharacteristic of Marines though, they were a different breed. "And as for your Colonel James Darson, god only knows what he is....he wheres mask and a hooded cape for heavens sake." Rick roled his eyes.
"Sweet!!" Joseph exclaimed in genuine excitement. It was like being 10 again, where you'd play holonovels and have this one massively scary guy who used to be a bad guy on your side, only now he's a dark and mysterious good guy. "Why does everyone around here seem too serious? Is this place devoid of fun and awesomeness, or have I missed some massive catastrophe?"
Rick flipped a bar mat or two as he pondered the answer to the posed question. The marines response had been another odd one, so this guy; in Rick's opinion wasn't your average marine. "Recently or just in general?" asked Rick, the question carried a lot more weight, than you might expect.
The seriousness in the Commander's face brought down Bailey's carefree casuality of the matter, as though he'd touched a nerve. Given the serious looks of pretty much everyone he'd seen since arriving, it looked as though these were strained times on the station, and the use of diplomacy may be more tactful that almost insinuating his own mother was a streetwalker.
"You looked a bundle of nerves when you walked in." Joseph replied. "So how about both?"
"Well" said Rick thoughtfully scratching the stubble on his chin. "Where to start?" It was a rhetorical question, Rick took a sip of his beer, to fortify himself. "Ok, here we go......Romulan attacks on the station, urrrrmmm, temporal rifts in space, Maquis terrorist take over the station, political and Machiavellian intrigue between the various embassies, some murders, the chief of security is on trial and I'm getting married in the morning."
'Bloody hell' Bailey thought to himself as the pilot listed off the events. 'Where have I got myself posted? It's like something out of a sci-fi holonovel.'
"As in tomorrow morning?!" He exclaimed, looking at the mans drink, which by now was only half full. Hailing down the barman, he ordered him another drink, and thought he'd join his companion in this Black Sheep beverage. "Cheers!" The 1st Lieutenant said, raising his glass. "Wait, have you had a stag do yet?"
Rick nodded and smiled his agreement “Yep getting married tomorrow morning, and no I haven’t had a stag do, and no I’m not going to have one, because I have to work tonight, and after this I’m going back to my quarters to pop a couple of fast acting detox pills and head over to the office. “ He looked at the bubbles in his beer “Alas such is life on Deep Space five….you will find that your days get very very crowded. Sometimes you feel that you’re in two places at once”
"That's only because YOU'RE a department head!" Joe chuckled. "I'm here to make up the numbers, the modern day equivalent to an away team red shirt. Only with more to say, and much better looking. As such, I don't have the same nagging responsibility to sit in an office, sober." He explained in jest, taking more of his drink.
"Are you sure you're not out for a drink after work? I can't pull the 'you're my only friend on the station' line and have you drink enough to fill a Type 9 shuttle, so you'll go home with no shoes, someone else's comm badge and a new sofa for your quarters?" The marine tempted. "Starfleet are very good at hangover cures nowadays. It's like we're living in the future! We've got spaceships and laser guns and all kinds of crap! They could sort your hangover right out!" He continued, hoping to slowly drag his new found friend down with him.
That was true, the powers of modern medicine meant that a hangover in the morning could be solved with a simple injection from a hypo spray, but Rick had plans for tonight. "Sorry mate, I got plans, but I'll be happy to get you out for a drink at some point."
"Judas!" Bailey laughed. "That's fine, I tried! I'll just try and find someone else to corrupt." Looking about the place for another potential plucky, young, naive officer to influence. "Besides, I doubt Mrs Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham, Station CAG, won't be too happy if you go home smelling of vomit and plasma."
Rick chuckled "Being the stations chief medical officer she's probably use to that sort of thing." This marine certainly had a unique and colorful personality; if just a little peculiar, no peculiar was the wrong word. The word Rick was searching for was different. He wondered if most marine officers were like this as his only frame of reference had been the Colonel and his immediate staff.
"She's the stations chief medical officer!?" Joe recoiled in surprise. "Man alive! What're you doing??" He took down more of his drink to try and sooth his seemingly aggressive surprise. "Doctors are probably the WORST people to go out with! Besides intelligence personnel. Or Captains. Or strategic operations staff. Or female marines. Or Borg. But they're still near the top of the list!" The soldier ranted. "She will always worry about you, and if you innocently sneeze in your sleep, she's going to go bonkers and think you have a severe-to-lethal case of Andorian flu and have your nose amputated. And you don't want to lose your nose Commander! It's like, right in the middle of your face! You'd notice if someone didn't have a nose!"
"Your bit odd aren't you" said Rick matter of factly as he took a sip of his beer again.
"Yeah, maybe a little bit." Bailey replied, following suit with the beer drinking. "I'm sure your nose will be fine."
Odd bloke to just sit their and insult a superior officers wife to be, Rick was in half a mind just lay a blow on the guys chin, but he set those emotions aside, and just felt sympathy for a man he seemed to talk first and think later, it would be interesting to see how long he would last on a station like this one. He drained the last of his beer, "Catch you later 1st Lieutenant" said Rick getting himself up from his bar stool.
"See you later, sir." The young officer said, pointing a finger on his forehead in a lazy salute, staying slumped on his stool and taking another sip of his drink.
After the pleasant chat with the Commander, he suddenly realised again that he knew absolutely no one on this station, and hadn't in fact yet even reported to anyone that he was here. Maybe the next priority on the list after finishing his drink. Besides, it can't be that bad, he was sure the station could survive the next 10 minutes without him, it seemed to have done ok without him so far. Though maybe not, based on Dunham's history lesson.
OFF:
JP between:
CAG Squadron Leader
Lieutenant Commander Richard Dunham
&
Marine Platoon Commander
1st Lieutenant Joseph Bailey