Beg, Steal or Borrow – Have a drink. . .or three
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
ON:
Gabriel tossed the empty bottle behind the bar and hardly waited to hear the accompanying crash before he reached over the counter and grabbed another bottle. He wasn't too concerned about what it was he was pouring into his glass. He had always had a strong stomach for most liquors, not to mention he was sure that Natrina only stocked the finest quality of alcohol on her shelf.
He refilled the glass and began to drink as he began to run thru the holodeck scenario to try to understand what the hell happened. Who's fault was it? Was it his, was it Fox's, was it anybody's? He knew that this wasn't some accident, this was murder, and he was damned sure somebody was going to pay.
Darson stalked through the promenade with a purpose, heading towards the lifts that would take him to the Klingon and Cardassian Embassies. However, as he passed Matahari Bar and Grill, which should have been sealed off pending the dismissal of charges against its proprietor, he noticed that the door was ajar, and that there was movement inside, though it remained dark.
He stopped walking and turned towards the establishment, contemplating what he should do. He had a fierce internal conflict about whether he should meddle in the affairs of what was probably just a simple thief, report it to Station Security, or just let it slide. Eventually, the urge to meddle won out.
He quickly but silently moved through the throngs of the crowd almost unnoticed, a very peculiar feat for somebody wearing a set of armor and a cloak. As he moved towards the bar, he slipped up next to the door and peeked in. Instead of seeing of thief though, he was treated to a far funnier sight. Dorian Gabriel getting drunk to high heaven. Thousands of questions tore through his mind, the foremost of which happened to be, “How can I turn this situation to my advantage?”
He stood up and slowly slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind him, before heading towards the inebriated security chief and alerting him to his presence.
Gabriel looked up and saw Darson approaching. "Well come on in Colonel, Lieutenant, or whatever the hell yer callin' yerself nowadays!" Gabriel said about as cheerfully as he could muster in his state.
“It’s Colonel, Mr. Gabriel,” Darson said conversationally as he closed the distance, “but I don’t believe that ever stopped you from calling me ‘Darson’, ‘Jarhead’…’stupid thick-necked marine’. But I’ll let that slide for now. How did you get in here? This bar was sealed off…I know this because I was there when they sealed it. I’m assuming you didn’t go and ask permission?”
"I'm the Chief of all Security, why the hell would I need permission when I have the key to all the doors!" He laughed in response.
Darson let out what seemed to be a grunt of disapproval, but was really just him trying to contain his laughter at what was rapidly becoming one of the most amusing things he had ever seen in his entire life. He finally decided to record this using his armor’s optical systems for posterity…or for blackmail.
"Lighten up James. . . hey! Did you hear the one joke about the Marine Platoon and the Starfleet Security Officer?" He posed.
“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me,” Darson replied sardonically as he glanced at the mess Dorian had made of the bar, “Aw jeez…look at what you’ve done here!” he said before Gabriel could continue. He leapt the countertop, his cloak fluttering behind him, and landed with only a whisper. He moved across from Dorian.
“You know,” Darson said thoughtfully, “I was a bartender once, years ago…I mixed drinks of such power and scope, and with such precision, that I renowned as the ‘Drinkmaster of Pollux I’...and I am bound by the Bartender’s Code to listen to any story of people that come into my bar…so talk.”
Gabriel looked up as he noticed the man was on the opposite side of the counter. "Yeah, yeah yeah, so anyways, so a Marine Commander was doing PT with his platoon, and he looked up and saw a looked up and saw a lone Starfleet Security Officer standing at attention at the top of a hill. The Marine CO was curious so he sent a marine up to see what was going on." Gabriel said.
"So the Marine went up to the Security Officer, but the officer turned and ran into the woods and the Marine followed him. Next thing ya hear, there's yellin' and screamin', but a few seconds later the Security Officer stepped out and stood back at attention." Gabriel said while trying to suppress his laughter.
"So the CO was still curious so he sent a SQUAD up the hill to investigate. The Officer ran into the woods again and after some yelling and screaming, he came back out and stood at attention again." Gabriel added. "So now the CO was REAL angry so he sent an entire PLATOON up to the top of the hill. The Officer ran into the woods and he emerged minutes later after some more yelling and screaming with no sign of the marines anywhere!" Gabriel continued to tell.
"So finally the he CO got so pissed that he called for an entire BATTALION of Marines to storm the hill and take out the Security Officer. This time there was more yelling and screaming and this time some gunfire. Finally, a few minutes later, a wounded marine crawled out of the woods and reported back to the CO. The CO asked 'You mean to tell me that one Starfleet Security Officer destroyed an entire BATTALION of marines!?!'
Gabriel laughter began to erupt as he finally got to the end, "So then . ..then. . you know what the surviving marine said to the CO?" Gabriel asked rhetorically.
Darson rolled his eyes inside his helmet as he picked up a glass off the bar, and began to polish it. He gave a small shrug to Dorian as he waited for him to deliver the punchline.”
"He said, 'SIR, RUN! IT'S A TRICK, THERE'S TWO OF THEM!" Gabriel said in a boisterous laugh as he slammed his hand down on the countertop in approval of the joke.
“Riveting,” Darson deadpanned as he continued to polish the glass, “I wonder what universe that took place in. But something tells me that you aren’t here drinking yourself under the table just to tell jokes.” Darson said.
"Since when did I need a reason to do anything in this hell hole? There is no rhyme and reason for anything that happens. One moment you're doing your duty, the next your body is laying on a biobed with nothing more than a toe-tag attached." Gabriel replied ruefully.
“Wwaaiitt a second…” Darson said as he lifted his head in thought about something he had seen in a routine intelligence report handed to him by Lt. Chau’saura a little bit earlier, right before he had left the Marine Complex to head up here, “This…is…about that security officer that died today…isn’t it?”
Gabriel staggered to his feet as he stopped to gain his balance. "He wasn't just some 'security officer', damnit! His name was Derick Fox." Dorian replied with emphasis as he downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar top, cracking it. ". . .and I'm the one who got him killed." Dorian said as he turned and began to walk out of the bar.
As Darson watched Dorian walk erratically towards the doorway, he shouted out after him, “Dorian! You can’t run away from this! Or stagger!” As the door closed behind him, Darson shut off the recording and stared contemplatively at the entrance before looking down at the mess on the bar, and then to the chronograph in his helmet. He was slightly behind schedule on things he had to do tonight.
Before he left the bar though, he turned back and began to rummage through the drinks, eventually finding and slipping into his cloak two bottles, one of Bloodwine and one of Kanar, both of a very excellent year.
As he left behind the bar and left the room, he opened a channel to the Marine HQ, =/= “Watch officer, this is Colonel Darson…please put me through to Lieutenant Flynn….thank you…………..Lieutenant. I need you to send a cleanup crew down to the Promenade…the Matahari Bar and Grill….Yes….Yes…I want it completely spotless. Leave not trace anybody was here today, and keep this discreet…when you are done, reinstate the security locks on the establishment…yes. Good. Darson out.” =/=
As he moved through the door, he thought about how good of a person he was to cover for Commander Gabriel in this sort of situation…and more important than how he could use this information to his advantage, how could he get the station’s Chief of Security to start doing his job right?
OFF:
Lt. Cmdr.
Dorian Gabriel
Chief of Security
Lt. Colonel James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | Have a drink. . .or three | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Wed Aug 19, 2009 @ 9:55pm | |
| Location | Matahari Bar & Grill | |
| Timeline | SD - 9 22:30hrs |
Gabriel tossed the empty bottle behind the bar and hardly waited to hear the accompanying crash before he reached over the counter and grabbed another bottle. He wasn't too concerned about what it was he was pouring into his glass. He had always had a strong stomach for most liquors, not to mention he was sure that Natrina only stocked the finest quality of alcohol on her shelf.
He refilled the glass and began to drink as he began to run thru the holodeck scenario to try to understand what the hell happened. Who's fault was it? Was it his, was it Fox's, was it anybody's? He knew that this wasn't some accident, this was murder, and he was damned sure somebody was going to pay.
Darson stalked through the promenade with a purpose, heading towards the lifts that would take him to the Klingon and Cardassian Embassies. However, as he passed Matahari Bar and Grill, which should have been sealed off pending the dismissal of charges against its proprietor, he noticed that the door was ajar, and that there was movement inside, though it remained dark.
He stopped walking and turned towards the establishment, contemplating what he should do. He had a fierce internal conflict about whether he should meddle in the affairs of what was probably just a simple thief, report it to Station Security, or just let it slide. Eventually, the urge to meddle won out.
He quickly but silently moved through the throngs of the crowd almost unnoticed, a very peculiar feat for somebody wearing a set of armor and a cloak. As he moved towards the bar, he slipped up next to the door and peeked in. Instead of seeing of thief though, he was treated to a far funnier sight. Dorian Gabriel getting drunk to high heaven. Thousands of questions tore through his mind, the foremost of which happened to be, “How can I turn this situation to my advantage?”
He stood up and slowly slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind him, before heading towards the inebriated security chief and alerting him to his presence.
Gabriel looked up and saw Darson approaching. "Well come on in Colonel, Lieutenant, or whatever the hell yer callin' yerself nowadays!" Gabriel said about as cheerfully as he could muster in his state.
“It’s Colonel, Mr. Gabriel,” Darson said conversationally as he closed the distance, “but I don’t believe that ever stopped you from calling me ‘Darson’, ‘Jarhead’…’stupid thick-necked marine’. But I’ll let that slide for now. How did you get in here? This bar was sealed off…I know this because I was there when they sealed it. I’m assuming you didn’t go and ask permission?”
"I'm the Chief of all Security, why the hell would I need permission when I have the key to all the doors!" He laughed in response.
Darson let out what seemed to be a grunt of disapproval, but was really just him trying to contain his laughter at what was rapidly becoming one of the most amusing things he had ever seen in his entire life. He finally decided to record this using his armor’s optical systems for posterity…or for blackmail.
"Lighten up James. . . hey! Did you hear the one joke about the Marine Platoon and the Starfleet Security Officer?" He posed.
“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me,” Darson replied sardonically as he glanced at the mess Dorian had made of the bar, “Aw jeez…look at what you’ve done here!” he said before Gabriel could continue. He leapt the countertop, his cloak fluttering behind him, and landed with only a whisper. He moved across from Dorian.
“You know,” Darson said thoughtfully, “I was a bartender once, years ago…I mixed drinks of such power and scope, and with such precision, that I renowned as the ‘Drinkmaster of Pollux I’...and I am bound by the Bartender’s Code to listen to any story of people that come into my bar…so talk.”
Gabriel looked up as he noticed the man was on the opposite side of the counter. "Yeah, yeah yeah, so anyways, so a Marine Commander was doing PT with his platoon, and he looked up and saw a looked up and saw a lone Starfleet Security Officer standing at attention at the top of a hill. The Marine CO was curious so he sent a marine up to see what was going on." Gabriel said.
"So the Marine went up to the Security Officer, but the officer turned and ran into the woods and the Marine followed him. Next thing ya hear, there's yellin' and screamin', but a few seconds later the Security Officer stepped out and stood back at attention." Gabriel said while trying to suppress his laughter.
"So the CO was still curious so he sent a SQUAD up the hill to investigate. The Officer ran into the woods again and after some yelling and screaming, he came back out and stood at attention again." Gabriel added. "So now the CO was REAL angry so he sent an entire PLATOON up to the top of the hill. The Officer ran into the woods and he emerged minutes later after some more yelling and screaming with no sign of the marines anywhere!" Gabriel continued to tell.
"So finally the he CO got so pissed that he called for an entire BATTALION of Marines to storm the hill and take out the Security Officer. This time there was more yelling and screaming and this time some gunfire. Finally, a few minutes later, a wounded marine crawled out of the woods and reported back to the CO. The CO asked 'You mean to tell me that one Starfleet Security Officer destroyed an entire BATTALION of marines!?!'
Gabriel laughter began to erupt as he finally got to the end, "So then . ..then. . you know what the surviving marine said to the CO?" Gabriel asked rhetorically.
Darson rolled his eyes inside his helmet as he picked up a glass off the bar, and began to polish it. He gave a small shrug to Dorian as he waited for him to deliver the punchline.”
"He said, 'SIR, RUN! IT'S A TRICK, THERE'S TWO OF THEM!" Gabriel said in a boisterous laugh as he slammed his hand down on the countertop in approval of the joke.
“Riveting,” Darson deadpanned as he continued to polish the glass, “I wonder what universe that took place in. But something tells me that you aren’t here drinking yourself under the table just to tell jokes.” Darson said.
"Since when did I need a reason to do anything in this hell hole? There is no rhyme and reason for anything that happens. One moment you're doing your duty, the next your body is laying on a biobed with nothing more than a toe-tag attached." Gabriel replied ruefully.
“Wwaaiitt a second…” Darson said as he lifted his head in thought about something he had seen in a routine intelligence report handed to him by Lt. Chau’saura a little bit earlier, right before he had left the Marine Complex to head up here, “This…is…about that security officer that died today…isn’t it?”
Gabriel staggered to his feet as he stopped to gain his balance. "He wasn't just some 'security officer', damnit! His name was Derick Fox." Dorian replied with emphasis as he downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar top, cracking it. ". . .and I'm the one who got him killed." Dorian said as he turned and began to walk out of the bar.
As Darson watched Dorian walk erratically towards the doorway, he shouted out after him, “Dorian! You can’t run away from this! Or stagger!” As the door closed behind him, Darson shut off the recording and stared contemplatively at the entrance before looking down at the mess on the bar, and then to the chronograph in his helmet. He was slightly behind schedule on things he had to do tonight.
Before he left the bar though, he turned back and began to rummage through the drinks, eventually finding and slipping into his cloak two bottles, one of Bloodwine and one of Kanar, both of a very excellent year.
As he left behind the bar and left the room, he opened a channel to the Marine HQ, =/= “Watch officer, this is Colonel Darson…please put me through to Lieutenant Flynn….thank you…………..Lieutenant. I need you to send a cleanup crew down to the Promenade…the Matahari Bar and Grill….Yes….Yes…I want it completely spotless. Leave not trace anybody was here today, and keep this discreet…when you are done, reinstate the security locks on the establishment…yes. Good. Darson out.” =/=
As he moved through the door, he thought about how good of a person he was to cover for Commander Gabriel in this sort of situation…and more important than how he could use this information to his advantage, how could he get the station’s Chief of Security to start doing his job right?
OFF:
Lt. Cmdr.
Dorian Gabriel
Chief of Security
Lt. Colonel James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer