Who Said Work Can't Be Fun?

Posted on Sat Apr 2nd, 2022 @ 4:50pm by Captain Natalya Markova & Captain Calypso Skyie

Mission: Pirates! (Or Yo Ho Ho And A Bottle Of Yum)
Location: Starbase 614

ON

It was just a little over an hour after Nat left Cally's quarters. She wasn't entirely convinced of the plan herself, but couldn't back out now, not after she had managed to sell the Captain on the insane idea. A quick trip back to her own quarters, Nat had brushed her hair out, straightened herself up, and generally tried to make an effort to 'look like' she was headed for an evening out.

Heading for the Starbase, Nat pondered her plan. Picking a fight with some Security didn't seem all that hard, especially if they were indeed talking wisecracks about spacing Marines.

It took about ten minutes of hopping from one place to the next on the main concourse, but Nat was finally able to stroll into a bar that had quite the number of Starfleet personnel. Red, blue, and indeed gold uniforms.

Her own green stood out, and as Nat approached the bar, she could already feel a number of eyes track her. Well, that was hardly new for her, she was used to being stared at in a bar. "Hey." She said to the barman. "Got something real?"

"Real?2 The barman let the word out slowly, as though the sound was roeign.

"Yeah, real, like... not synth. Worst thing ever cooked up."

"Give her a taste of your white bottle, Charlie!" A voice called from a nearby table. A group of Gold shirts were lounging, with an air and arrogance that Nat had seen far too often in Security types. Too perfect.

"Yeah, Charlie." Nat leaned on the bar, letting her voice drop to a husky whisper. "I'd love to try a shot of your... white stuff."

"I like her!" The Gold shirt called out as the table to her left started laughing.

Charlie reached between the counter, pulled a bottle of a pearlescent white liquid, and a shot glass. Not once did he takes his eyes from Nat as he poured a drink, and sat the bottle back out of sight. "I warm ya, Lieutenant, used that to knock a Klingon on his ass."

Nat quirked an eyebrow at the man playfully, picked up the shot-glass, and offered a toast to the Gold shirts. "Asses up." She announced, and knocked the drink back in one.

Fire, and ice exploded in one hit down her throat. Her vision greyed for a moment as her brain tried to comprehend the sensation of heat and cold all at once. "Mother of..." Nat bent over, a coughing fit that turned into a harsh hacking noise. She straightened after a few moments, her eyes streaming as she did so. "Ooooh boy. Charlie, you got yourself something there all right." She smacked the shot glass upside down on the bar and pulled a stool close to sit on.

It was then she noticed the four Gold shirts had moved to the bar, two on each side, flanking her. The one who had spoken up held out a hand. "Dalton."

"Natalya." Nat took it with a smile, guaging the squeeze of his hand. Yup, Security, trying to play the dominance game.

"Gotta hand it to ya, Marine. Most back down when Charlie mentions the Klingon. You got balls."

"Didn't make it through Officer school by backing down." Nat gave him a cool expression. "It's not exactly a walk on the promenade."

A few chuckles from the group as Dalton face tightened. Nat had him pegged. Made jokes, but didn't like taking them. "So what brings an officer like you into this bar? Don't see many Marines on the station."

"Just passing through. Got some time off the Chimera before we ship out."

"Chimera?" The one immediately on her right joined the conversation. "Heard tell of that. Ain't she a dead-end assignment? Folks who pissed off one Admiral or another get put there, out of the way like?"

Nat held her gave on Dalton for a few seconds, before finally turning her head. "Not... not the whole crew. Sure, we got a fair share of assholes, but a chunk of the crew is solid."

"And where exactly do you fall in that?" Dalton asked, his voice turning smooth. "Solid or..." His eyes slid over her body. "Asshole?"

Nat couldn't help the playful smirk, she was a flirt at heart. "Me? Why Dalton, you'll find I'm the biggest asshole on that ship." She leaned in close, dropping her voice to a whisper, for his ears only. "An asshole that you could never handle." She picked up a cocktail stick from a display bowl and started playing with it, just wanting something to do.

"You don't think I can handle it?" Dalton was rising to her bait, insulted.

Nat played with the cocktail stick, chewing on the end, almost suggestively. "I'm way too much for you to handle. Maybe all four of you could. You wanna try?" Granted, she was being deliberately vague in what she was suggesting, and knew where their minds must be at. Definitely wasn't what she was thinking.

"Arrogant..." Dalton seemed to trail off, not quite finishing his sentence.

"Yes?" Nat asked, sweetly.

"Bitch."

"Honey... we Marines walk through flames, and come out the other side. We've earned the right to be bastards and bitches, even arrogant ones."

"Make a mess is more like. Wade into the fight without a brain cell among you, and make us clean the shit. All you know how to do is get shot at."

Nat didn't take her eyes off Dalton, or let the half smile slip. A dangerous sign for anyone who knew her. "Charlie, be a darling and get me a glass of water, please."

"That ice whiskey still burning ya is it?" Dalton regathered his self-superiority. "Knew you was all talk. All mouth and no actions. That's what you Marines are."

Nat picked up the water, and slowqly slid off the stool, coming to her feet. The four immediately moved back a step, as if sensing something was off.

In one smooth motion, Nat threw the water in Dalton's face, and turned to leave.

Frozen for a moment, Dalton's hand snapped around her wrist. "Oh no. No one humiliates Dalton Abrams, the Third."

Nat's first reaction was to laugh at how ridiculous that name was. The instinct cost her. A smack to the back of the head sent her stumbling, and the stool clattered to the ground.

Regaining herself, Nat turned back, and squared herself up. "All right. You want some Marine ass, you try and take it, dick."

Punches, kicks, Nat weaved in and out of all four, like some choreographed dance. She took some hits, she landed some blows, blotting out the panicked shouts from the room. All that mattered was these four. Dalton made to punch her in the nose, but Nat was ready. She caught his wrist, used the moment to pull him towards her, and wrapped her arm around his nack, trapping his arm in hers, in a full lock. "All right just back the fuck off, and I won't snap his arm off!"

"What the ever-living HELL is going on here?" A bellowed voice came from the door to the establishment. "ATTEN-SHUN!" Calypso snarled as the onlookers made space for her as she stalked forward into the open area where one of the four security people was on the floor, breathing but not moving, two were trying to figure out how to attack Nat and she was in a position to break his arm.

While she really wanted to smile at the scenario in front of her, Cally glared in Natalya's direction, "I said Attention, Lieutenant! Release that man, THIS INSTANT! And tell me what happened here, NOW!"

Nat forced herself not to smile. Once a Marine, always a Marine. Cally remembered how to shout like one. She kept her face nautral, letting go of Dalton and coming to attention before her Captain. "Ma'am! This man here insulted the Marines, the Chimera, and pissed me off, so I threw a drink in his face." Her back was ramrod straight, legs locked, heels and toes together, her eyes fixed dead ahead. "I threw a drink in his face, and tried to walk away. Shit went.... sideways after that." She had known he would react to the drink. It had been calculated to provoke a physical response.

Cally glared at Nat as words from the past entered her head, ‘Every Commanding Officer must also be a mistress of deceit, to keep your opponent from knowing what you’re thinking.’ She rolled her eyes as she looked at the man, Dalton, was it? “Ensign Dalton, is this true?” She speared him with her gaze, before he nodded. “You are going to file a report within a half hour and send it to me. If it does not match precisely what the cameras in here show, you’re only going to wish that I’d tossed you out an airlock without a suit.”

Then her eyes returned to Natalya, “As for you, Lieutenant, I’ve got more trouble on board my ship than I want to handle as it is. When you arrived, I informed you in no uncertain terms what would happen if you ever got into a fight in a bar again, didn’t I?”

"Yes ma'am, but if I-"

With a swipe of a hand, Calypso cut her off in midsentence, “You’ve been a stain on the Marines and this is the last goddamned straw.” She stepped forward to stand a foot away from the Marine uniform and reached out, ripping first one, then the other rank insignia away from Nat’s collar and tossing them on the floor, “You are relieved of your commission, Miss Markova.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw station security coming in, far too late, as usual, “Lieutenant!” She summoned one of them, “You will take this civilian back to my ship and escort her to her quarters to retrieve her personal belongings. You will not let her speak to any of the ship’s crew, nor to anyone that used to be under her command.” Her eyes stared into Nat’s own, one eyelid flicking millimetrically, “You will be off my ship in one hour. Where you go, I don’t give a shit.”

She knew it was an act. Yet being called 'Miss Markova' stung more than she thought it could. The look in Cally's eyes almost made her regret this idea. Almost made her wish she had kept her damned mouth shut. "Understood, ma'am." Well, she was fired. Nat just turned on her heel, her back physically - if not metaphorically to the woman, and marched out, with the Security team flanking her

OFF