Cyn tipped her head back, swallowed a slug of brandy and studied the cantina ceiling. Around her a dozen other Alliance Security officers sat and argued about how bad the day had been. Sure the previous CO had been an ass and political bootlicker. But THIS one... Force who knew it could get worse. Carrying luggage, not too much trouble but the man had brought everything he'd ever worn in his life. It was, she paused to swallow another mouthful of liquor, wrong to her toes. Neatness, order. Discipline. She lived by all three and this... officer... turned her usual one drink into the first of many in an attempt to wipe away the sour taste in her mouth. Anger. Frustration. This was her chosen career and she'd worked damned hard to succeed in it. To get assigned to Avalon and Hawkwood's command then the man got himself killed. She noticed her glass was empty and picked up the bottle to find it too was empty. Cyn leaned around one of the night shift guards next to her unconscious and drank that too. Finally she was starting to feel something happen. Got himself killed. "...off his rocker. I say we get medical to certify him, get someone else in here." She roused herself to scowl. "Like who? Hawkwood? He's dead and not here. We're stuck with this guy and his luggage and COLOR fetish." The grumbling around her intensified. Hawkwood had been well liked and admired, his replacement tolerated and often ignored as this one was about to be. Percival Bay. Col. Bay... A large body of water that sits and looks pretty in the sun. Whatever he thought he was doing with all those weapons earlier in the day, she didn't care. Let him play games, she'd joined this army and was not leaving it for any pretty creampuff that held down her bosses desk.
Members Only Main Page
What's New Page