In Vino Veritas

by dave-d

There was a big holiday party at the military base on a rebuilt Melida Island. Why was Tessa drinking... hadn't she learned her lesson before? Then again... what could possibly happen to her?

And now for something a little different.

A Tessa-centric fic. No, I'm not being mean to the little Captain. She's a big girl. She makes her own choices….

In vino veritas, also written as in uino ueritas, is a Latin phrase that means 'In wine, there is truth', suggesting a person under the influence of alcohol is more likely to speak their hidden thoughts and desires. A similar phrase is seen in the Babylonian Talmud: 'Wine enters, secret goes out'. The Chinese say 'After wine blurts truthful speech.' The Russians, never to be outdone, claim 'What a sober man has in his mind, the drunk one has on his tongue.'

Be careful where you drink… what you drink… and how much you drink.

Often, a character committing the act of alcohol-induced idiocy will be an otherwise sensible and reasonably intelligent person when sober.

Yes. Even a genius can fall victim to the bottle.

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A chill wind blew strongly across the beaches of Merida Island.

Gliding gulls and crawling crabs were the only ones visible in the vicinity of the sandy beaches. The sentinel robots were cruising the littoral waters, and the human guards were sitting in cushy chairs, in an overly warm room filled with view screens.

Those griping men and women were the only military personnel who were not at one holiday party or another, with different seasonal events scattered across the Mithril base. One of the most raucous sites of ribaldry was the Serenity Of The Seas Cantina.

The crowded room, which in the days prior to Amalgam's attack had been a number of outmoded training rooms merged together into one sprawling establishment, had many separate areas, with an enormous bar built from whale bones and mother of pearl… a dancefloor whose surface was the flight deck of the sunken aircraft carriers Akagi and Yorktown… eating areas modeled after sexy Miami cabarets and the Pharamond bistro in Paris… and a myriad of small and large tables dotting the twilight lit expanse like garish and glittering mushrooms. Tall fake flickering Tiki torches added to the inviting atmosphere.

Even though the season was winter, the decorations were all tropical. Intrepid page girls and boys had hand crafted numerous fake trees, vines, and jungle denizens, handing them over to an over-worked group of maintenance men to assemble and arrange. Real fruit was hanging everywhere, or was attached at various points and petards throughout the joyous gathering area. Animal calls sounded from small hidden speakers, while calypso tunes blasted from tweeters and woofers that were being given on hell of a work-out. Diners clinked glasses here and there, adding to the din. Smiling couples strutted their stuff out on the dancefloor, while lonely drunks gyrated and wobbled off in dark alcoves, or brazenly at the center of the dancefloor, playing their role as modern day kamikazes.

There were small bars scattered throughout the larger area, each with a vivid theme taken from great films of the thirties and forties, including romances, comedies, and war films. Those bars were packed, standing room only, with a wild and jubilant buzz about them. The reason was simple. While the large main bar had the most bottles of booze, and the greatest variety in libations, the smaller bars had the cutest guy and gal bartenders. Not only that, those bars were the 'In' places to be. All of the young and happening singles congregated there, like ants around a spilled dish of sugar on the floor.

At the center of the humongous bar… excluded from the happy crowd by her own volition… a woman of less than average height stood, dwarfed by the nearest sailor on her left, and the hulking contractor on her right. Those two men, dressed in their off duty best, kept a good distance from the sharply dressed woman, who was the only one in the Mardi Gras-like crowd who still wore her uniform. But, it was more than that. It was almost like she wore some device that created a force shield: most of the people in the crowded venue kept a good distance from her, while happily trampling other party-goers, or themselves being unhappily bumped into or shoved by the same.

One young woman proved an exception. She served as a counselor at the military base, and had talked with the smaller woman on an occasion or two, and with certain of the woman's underlings many times. "I'm surprised to see you here…." She waved her hand up and down, following the general contours of the other girl's smaller frame. "With your uniform still on." She did not feel it was her placed to give a lengthy lecture on alcohol. She did say: "You've faced easier enemies than the bottle." She left when a group of her friends jumped up and waved in her direction.

"Frankie said… alcohol may be man's worst enemy," a passerby said. The red-faced man, a jack of all trades, stuck the punchline. "But the Bible says… love your enemy."

"There are better things in the world," a scantily clad woman with way too much makeup opined. "But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them."

"Yikes!" The young woman almost jumped up and off of her bar stool when the recorded sound of a Howler Monkey rang out from behind the bar. Luckily, she hadn't dropped the large and colorful menu she was holding. Thickly plasticized, the list of drinks was accompanied by photographs of the perfect version of each concoction, along with a short blurb or a useful piece of drinking lore. "That''s better…." She smiled momentarily, when she heard the sound of frogs calling out. She had always loved catching frogs when she was little, before the full weight of being Whispered pulled her from her quieter world.

"So, what can I do you for?" One of the older barkeeps stopped polishing a glass, placed it back on a tall pyramid of drinkware, and gave the young woman his full attention. "Captain?"

Yes. Captain. The woman at the bar was Teletha Testarossa. Someone who knew all too well that she should be no nearer to alcoholic beverages than a lit match should be near a sensitive and short fuse. She felt a great sense of responsibility, thinking she had to make an appearance at the party. But, there was a hollow spot in the pit of her stomach, knowing that a certain person was not there, but instead spinning in an orbit around another young woman who gone on from being his charge and classmate to something more significant, with the infuriating and sorrowful chance of growing and long-lasting intimacy.

"If think-" Tessa's voice was drowned out by a song that began boldly blaring from a bar top speaker disguised as a large pineapple:

Murder, murder, everywhere
I think these people should have a care
Murder, murder, everywhere
I think these people should have a care
This time its really out of place
Over a thousand miles in space
They poison the food for the puppy
Oh Lord this is more than cruelty

It was 1958s 'Russian satellite' by Mighty Sparrow. Calypso, of course. The singer had been very political, with wry and satirical lyrics, fingers on the pulse of the world. This particular song was denouncing Sputnik 2, the second spacecraft launched into Earth orbit on 3 November 1957. It was the first satellite to carry a living animal, a Soviet space dog named Laika. Laika died on the fourth orbit due to overheating caused by an air conditioning malfunction.

"I think I would like to try-" Tessa raised her voice, but it still wasn't loud enough for her to even hear herself over the cacophony. She frowned, angered by the necessity to be so loud. She also wrinkled her brow, unhappy with the song. No, she wasn't bothered by the tragic backstory, even though she was an animal lover. She was annoyed by the knowledge that Amalgam had co-opted numerous Soviet satellites. Hey, any surviving enemy could have space-based cameras looking down at the base right now! She let her breath out slow and long. She was off duty, wasn't she? While she couldn't bring herself to put on the pretty dress she had bought, originally thinking that Sousuke might be at the gathering, she could at least brush away the numerous duties of a submarine commander, which normally swarmed about her like a cloud of gnats or flies. No, at many times, like a swarm of bees or a disturbed nest of hornets.

Although they trying their best
They making a mess
With the Russian satellite
They should be all sent to prison
For the dog that they poison
In the Russian satellite
Two Sputniks in the sky
Had everybody hypnotize
Now I am very sorry
For the poor little puppy
In the Russian satellite

"COULD I HAVE AN OLD FASHIONED, PLEASE?!" Tessa hated raising her voice that way. She never shouted on the bridge of the TDD-1. She never had to. She was always in command, and her quietest words always carried such weight, and prompted immediate action. She pointed at the photograph of that type of drink.

"Coming right up, M'am!" The barkeep went about his business, and handed the finished drink to the thirsty young woman.

The Old Fashioned is timeless. Even though she herself felt trapped in time, rather than timeless, Tessa was without a doubt old fashioned, with a large capital 'O'.

That simple classic was made with rye or bourbon, a sugar cube, Angostura bitters, a thick cube of ice, and an orange twist. "It delivers every time," Tessa read aloud. "It is the most popular cocktail in the world." She sighed heavily. Popular. She wasn't allowed to be popular. She was too important for Mithril, and Mithril was too crucial for the vast and complicated world that once knew nothing of that organization's existence. "Well… that's changed, now…."

Saving the world brought notoriety. Notoriety brought intense scrutiny on the organization. Scrutiny of the organization put a larger target on her back, from well-wishers, sycophants, and more secretive sorts.

In that unwanted way, she was all too popular.

Sipping on her drink, which had been poured just right, Tessa rolled the words 'Old Fashioned' about her mind, the way that a small child might eagerly roll marbles about his or her hand. She smiled, ever so briefly, thinking of a certain Sergeant. He was anything but old fashioned, in the sense that he was something rather unique in his behavior. Sipping again, she choked for a moment, visibly discomforted enough to draw a concerned query from one of the serving girls. She had pictured a scene plucked right from an old romantic flick, with Sousuke seated next to her on a picnic blanket, an opened basket overflowing with the food that she had painstakingly crafted by hand, filled as much with love and longing as it was with the finest ingredients.

"I wonder if it's possible-" Tessa unknowingly drew a heart on the bar top, her finger wet from the condensation on the outside of her drinking glass. "I know what they say….." She briefly pictures Sousuke as a dog. A dog with a human face and that famous facial scar of his, with a wild mop of hair on top of his head. Dogs had been domesticated from wolves; but, it had taken time. A long stretch of centuries. And, there were always the cautionary tales of people who had been savaged by the wild beasts that they kept as pets. "But maybe I could do it-" It was a silly thought. One that may have made her grin at first, only to throw another log of sadness on the fire. No. She wouldn't be able to changes Sousuke, would she? She would never have the chance as things stood now, since another Whispered girl was the center of his world, and that young woman unwittingly egged him on, bringing out his most Military tendencies in the Non-Military world.

"He does have some old-fashioned characteristics, doesn't he?" Tessa gazed at the back of the bar, but she didn't take notice of the huge array of bottles, large and tall and short and stout. She took no notice of the mechanical monkey that swung back and forth from a faux vine, a fresh peeled banana in its mechanical hand. Her vision was turned inward, deep inside her head and heart, where all of her regrets lived.

Yes, she dreamed of an old-fashioned boyfriend. Well, she dreamed of having any boyfriend… having never gone on a date, having never been held, tickled, or kissed. "He's got bold confidence. He's thoughtful… that is…." He was kind and considerate alright, but he usually acted without giving things any thought. "He's straightforward. Attentive. But… he's not a good dresser…." No. He may wear a uniform well; but, outside of his military garb, or required school clothing, he was far from fashionable. "But… maybe… I could fix that…."

"Do you need a refill, Miss." An elderly bartender politely woke Tessa from her melancholy mental musings.

"I-" In the lull between songs, Tessa began her reply. She made a sour face when the next song rang out. It was Might Sparrow again, this time with 1963s 'Kennedy & Khrushchev':

World wide communism they want to spread
But me mother said she rather dead
Than live in a world of communism
She will drink poison
But poison ain't necessary
Not as long as we have Kennedy
Together with Canada, England, and France…

"And Mithril" a gaggle of goons shouted in unison. They must have heard the song before. Or, they had thought the same thought at the same exact moment.

…Nikita Khrushchev ain't stand a chance

Great. More noise. Another song that made her think about the world at large, and all of the dangers that lurked behind the scenes. Hmmm. Where was she? Right. Sousuke. His old-fashioned potential in an uncomfortably new-fashioned mind and body.

We make him turn them ships in the opposite direction
(Kennedy is the master)
Any retaliation will be met with explosion
(Kennedy will take care of him)
Stop them, search them
Sink them to the bottom of the ocean
(Kennedy is the master)
Let me hear your voice if you second the motion

"I wish someone would turn that down!" Tessa griped without thinking. "I wish they could turn it all down!" She secretly wished that she could be in that vivid and bright room, with all of the people and props safely in the background, a tasty highlight to a world of one, where she could privately swim in her sea of dreams, valiantly trying to ignore the shores strewn with the wreckage of her previous hopes and desires.

"Did you say something, Miss?" The old barkeep asked. He hadn't heard her of course, but he was an apt lip reader.

Tessa shook her head. She fought the urge to stick her fingers in her ears. She was distracted momentarily by a group of longshoremen. "All the military people around here seem to hate the Russians," a bearded man said, beer foam dripping from his beard.

"Me too," another man said, chest hair popping out from between the buttons of his plaid flannel shirt. "And I ain't no sojer!"

"Me three," a bald man with a handlebar moustache added. "But compared to us, they're professionals." He nagged his beer mug against those of his buddies, splashing beer on the bar top. "No matter how many Jello-O shots or Jager shooters all the kiddies in this room might do tonight… they should never ever forget… Russians… any Russians… can drink them under the table!"

"Melissa might stand a chance," Tessa said to herself. "But I wonder why…." She was curious why Sousuke… who had been raised in a KGB school and spent time around different groups of Soviet people in his youth… wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol.

We ain't want no war not again
But it is plain we ain't go remain
And let communism just step in
And ain't do nutten that never happen
We got brains, we got weapon
To stifle Russian aggression
Don't make a fool of you in space
Kennedy will put Khrushchev in place

"I've got the brains," Tessa whispered. "And he's got the weapons." She sighed again. "Sousuke." Yes, that scruffy grenade of a boy with his pin always half pulled out did have the makings of a fine man, right? He was a handy guy. Yes, Yes, she knew that estimation likened to old gender stereotypes. But Sousuke could take a piece of chewing gum… a paper clip… maybe some lint from his pocket… and create something that might stop an old RK-92… or blow a hole in the wall of the high school classroom. "He's also protective." Right. But, his judgment was still lacking in that regard. He constantly chose to protect the wrong Whispered girl! "He's respectful, too." To friends and allies. To enemies? Not so much. "And chivalrous." She smiled briefly again, picturing herself in beauteous princess garb, and with an armored Sousuke, visor up and lance in hand, sitting astride a breathtaking steed.

But, naturally, a blue-haired witch wandered into her fantasy and made off with her knight. It might have been different if Jindai High had allowed the two beaus to graduate, and Kaname had gone off to college, and Sousuke was unable to be in her classes, not being accepted to any institute of higher learning.

"Ummmm." Tessa flipped through the pages of the drink menu when asked again if she wanted something more. She paused, devil and angels appearing on her shoulders. The angel properly proffered abstinence, seeing what had happened to her in the past. The devil, with a lawyer's streak in him a mile wide, offered a countering bit of logic: 'You can try as many drinks as you like… as long as you only take a few sips from each one!'

The devil made her do it. While she no longer paid attention to lyrics, the song still necessitated shouting. "HOW ABOUT THIS." She pointed to another photograph. "I'LL HAVE AN 'AVIATION,' PLEASE."

She had stood to show the barkeep the menu. But, she should have made an instrument landing. Already a tad tipsy, she slid off her barstool upon reseating herself, ending up head down and ass up, nose on the floor. Embarrassed, and reseated after a kindly custodian helped her back on her perch, Tessa read aloud from her menu, focusing her mind on the drink description, while chasing away the thought that the whole room of people must be staring at her whispering to one another.

"Meet the Aviation," the young Captain began. "Served up in a Martini glass, the gorgeous lavender-colored cocktail is made with Crème de Violette or Creme Yvette, Maraschino liqueur, gin, and lemon juice. The Aviation has had a bumpy flight these past few years, dropping in popularity." She took a sip. "Yum." Ignoring her better angels, she took a few more sips.

Aviation. Tuatha de Danaan had a lot to do with aviation. A litany of shipboard aircraft and drones passed through her thoughts. When she focused on the image of a generic prop-driven plane, one built from fragments of a dream, an amalgam of true aircraft, she swallowed her drank down the wrong pipe, and began coughing again. That imaginary plane had morphed into the image of an actual plane, a twin engine propeller-driven aircraft that she had watched Sousuke board on a very memorable day. He thoughts drifted back, as she aimlessly swung her glass back and forth, spilling small splashes of lavender-hued liquor hear and there, painting a crazy pattern of lines on the floor beneath her stool.

The images swirled within her head. During a critical moment of an underwater battle, all of the people on the bridge around Tessa turned into Sousuke. All of them confessed their love for her, just before torpedoes hit the TDD. She had fallen out of her dream the way that the imaginary Tessa had spilled out of her captain's chair. In her underwear, she had wandered into the AS hanger where Sousuke was working. Sousuke became very embarrassed when she went and hugged him. She finally came to her senses and realized where she was and what she was doing. She returned to her normal flustered self… asked Sousuke to keep things a secret from everyone else… and then ran away apologizing. Back in her room, she took a shower and got dressed. She told Mao about what happened, and the Chinese-American woman said that she shouldn't worry about it.

It had been a rare free day, but Tessa had felt troubled. Mao and she had been together the previous night, and today Mao let it slip that the young Captain had drank herself drunk after her older companion had given her an alcoholic drink instead of juice. But before Tessa could get too angry, Mao finished had the work on her current project.

"It's not something you see everyday," Tessa said to no one in particular, still surfing the waves of her memory. She blinked rapidly, when she accidentally spilled some of her drink down her blouse.

Back on that fateful day, Mao with the help of several mechanics had programmed M9s to tango with one another. Unfortunately, one sent another flying into the wall. "This is going to come out of your salary," she reenacted real time, aping the words she had spoken back then. She pushed further along in her remembrance. She had made a visit to the Lost and Found because she was missing her stuffed Bonta-ku. Kurz came by and turned in a bag of anime that he had found. After Kurz left, Clouseau arrived and claimed that the bag of anime as his. He asked Tessa to keep his love of anime a secret. Seeing how worried he was about his image, Tessa off-handedly suggests that he should simply stop watching. Clouseau started panicking at that statement, prompting Tessa to say she had just been joking, promising not to tell anyone.

Tessa found nothing of hers at the Lost and Found. She tried to jog her memory about what happened the night before. She remembered a phone ringing, so she checked her cell phone's log and found a call from Kalinin. Tessa visited his room… knocked… and he invited her in. The Lieutenant Commander was wearing an apron and cooking a special borscht. While he was stirring his concoction, Tessa asked him about the previous night. He went through a long explanation; but, he paused mid-word every time he heard a beep from the stove, so that he could stir his beet soup. He explained that he had expected her to come see a system's test, until he had gotten a communication from Commander Mardukas saying that she wasn't coming.

Tessa had been extremely unhappy, learning that Mardukas was the next link of the puzzle.

"Pardon?" A question startled Tessa out of her revelry. "O. Of course." She coughed. "I MEAN, OF COURSE. MAY I TRY A 'DARK & STORMY', PLEASE?!"

It was a no brainer, the reason for that drink choice. Dark and Stormy. That described Mardukas perfectly. Geez. Did it ever! She read from the menu again. "The Dark 'n' Stormy contains a mix of Gosling's rum …and only Gosling's rum… and ginger beer. Sometimes, simplest is best." She frowned. Nothing in her life was simple. She couldn't help but chuckle. Nothing in Kaname's life was simple, ever since Sousuke burst onto her scene. Her levity quickly faded. Being Whispered had finally caught up to Miss Chidori. Sousuke was an annoying insect, compared to the dark and secretive monster that was Amalgam. She closed her eyes, wishing away the image of her brother hat appeared. Her history with him was too prickly and too poignant. She still felt twinges and guilt now and then, knowing that the family secret she had told Sousuke had caused her brother to lose his cool, and as a result, lose his life. "It was either him or the world," she whispered.

Tessa sighed. She picture what a stern and disapproving Mardukas might say if he stood behind her now. No doubt he would comment about her being in a room full of ruffians, imbibing in the way a proper young woman should not, especially the designer and commanding officer of a multi-billion dollar submarine. "When the cat's away… the mouse will play…." She was a mouse sometimes. But, there were times when she was a mouse with a taste for cat. That must give the stodgy and stuffy Brit an ulcer and a migraine. "Guh!"

"Something wrong with your drink, Mam?" A young woman dressed like a native girl asked.

"Huh?" Tessa blinked, and then waved her hands. "No. No, it's fine. It's really good." It was. Simple, but tasty. The same could not be said for something else she had once tasted. Her mind had drifted back again.

Before she could leave Kalinin's cabin on that past day, Tessa had to first try some of the Russian's borscht, which included cocoa powder and miso paste. The mixture had soup been horrible. She had managed to survive the meal somehow, and stumbled down the corridors immediately thereafter. But, before she could make it to Marduka's room, Kurz ran by and hid behind some large boxes off to one side. Clouseau had appeared, looking for Kurz. It seemed that parts of his anime collection had been replaced by a video of mating pigs. After Clouseau headed off in the wrong direction, Kurz came out and Tessa told him that he should apologize for doing something so horrendous to someone's important things. Clouseau returned, and the Canadian immediately got into a fight with Kurz. Tessa tried in vain to break them up, but the two only stop after Mardukas showed up.

"Ole Dark and Stormy," Tessa murmured. It wasn't all terrible, of course. The older officer had taught her a great many things. He was only one in a list of many people who had been thrust upon her life, but he was truly caring in his own way.

Back on that past day, he given the two SRT members a very lengthy lecture that lasted throughout]t the day and into the evening. As for Tessa, Mardukas explained that he had contacted Kalinin only after he himself had been contacted, being told that Tessa was not going to be present. The person who had told him that fact was none other than Sousuke. Mardukas had then mentioned that it was almost time for Sousuke to leave for Tokyo again. Realizing that Sousuke had been the one who had found her drunk and had put her on the bridge, Tessa ran towards the launch area and reached Sousuke, just as he had been about to board the plane. She had apologized. Then, she had confessed that she loved him and asked him not to hate her. Sousuke had amiably replied that he does not hate her…but that he did hate her talking about loving alcohol in front of a subordinate.

"That dunce!" Tessa shook her drink, sloshing liquid onto her pants legs. In her fit of pique, she didn't notice that mishap.

Sousuke had interpreted her confession of love for him as a confession for her love of alcohol. And before she can clear up the misunderstanding, his plane had taken off. "Really, Sousuke. I don't know how Miss Chidori can put up with you!" She made a low moaning sound. She wished that she would be so cursed… or blessed… however one might look at the prospect of being around a boy that had been raised by wolves, so to speak. Yes, back then, drinking with Mao after the plane's departure, Tessa had been quite pissed-off at Sousuke. Mao had asked her how her day had ended up, and Tessa had replied that it was terrible. "But… well… you know… it would be good it my days could continue like that…."

Just as that warm feeling tried to take hold into her heart like a bird settling into its nest, she heard loud obnoxious talking loud enough to drown out the music and the crowd noise. A group of soldiers stood near the bar, whistling at the scantily clad serving girls, and bragging about sexual exploits, real or imagined. That had been enough of a mood killer, in itself. But, they also saw fit to tell jokes.

"Two drunk girls stopped to pee in a cemetery after a long night out drinking and partying," one bald and bearded man said, his voice slurred. Tessa knew that soldier. He was a radar operator from New Zealand. She had once thought him respectable. "The first girl squats down by the car and starts to pee. She then realizes she doesn't have anything to wipe with, so she takes her panties off and wipes herself, and throws them away. The second girl squats down near a grave stone and starts to pee. She also realizes she has nothing to wipe with. She saw her friend use her panties but she thinks to herself, 'I'm not using my panties, these are expensive! Victoria's Secret is nothing to throw away.' So she grabs a ribbon off the nearby grave and wipes herself. The next morning the husband's of the girls call each other. The first girls husband says, 'Man my wife came home with no panties on and can't remember anything. I'm divorcing her.' The second husband says, 'That's nothing man. My wife came home with a ribbon stuck to her ass saying 'We will never forget you!' signed by Juan, Carlos, Pepe, Jeremy, and the whole National Guard!'"

HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HARDEEHAR HARRRRRR-RRRRR-RRRR-RRR-RR-R

The group of mercenaries burst into laughter, the type that only a group of inebriated men could produce. Tessa opened her mouth, wanting to chastise them as a woman, and correct them as a commanding officer. She bit her tongue, not wanting to be seen as any more as a prude that some might already view her as. Also, everyone was officially off duty, although she never really ever felt that way herself. In any case, her silence was followed by another joke, this time from a squat and smelly logistics worker from Madrid.

"A blonde and two brunettes had gone out drinking Friday night and really tied one on," the man said in his Spanish accent. "They all got back together for lunch on Sunday, and the two brunettes were shocked at how awful and sad the blonde looked. 'I can't ever go drinking again', the blonde moaned. 'That was the worst, most humiliating night of my life!' Shocked, one brunette asks. 'What happened?' The blonde mournfully replies, 'I was so drunk I went home and blew chunks.' The two brunettes laugh. 'Hell', one of them says, 'I woke up Saturday afternoon half naked in the hall of my apartment building with my landlady poking me with a broom. That's a lot worse than just blowing chunks!' The other brunette chimes in, 'And I woke up in some strange guy's apartment naked and couldn't find my clothes anywhere. I had to swipe one of his dirty sweatshirts and a pair of his pants while he was sleeping and catch a cab home. That's sure more humiliating than just blowing chunks!' But the blonde is still sobbing and puts her face in her hands. 'No… you guys don't understand… Chunks is my dog..."

HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HARDEEHAR HARRRRRR-RRRRR-RRRR-RRR-RR-R HAR HAR HAR

Tessa's mouth fell open. She poured her drink all over her shoes. She had been subconsciously putting herself in the place of the blonde and the brunettes as the joke as flown from the lips of the smashed Spaniard.

"Here, I have a clean towel for you." A young barkeep with a mohawk haircut, dressed as a cannibal with his necklace of fingers and skulls, had been very attentive, to the point of witnessing Tessa's spill. He handed her the towel. "Would you like a replacement." He gestured towards her empty glass.

Tessa nodded. "Let me see-" She began flipping pages again, cringing when a Belgian armory clerk tossed off his own joke.

"Remember guys," the wobbling soldier said, finger in the air, speaking in a sage manner. "The next time you're at a bar or club trying to pick up a girl, there's really only one type of guy to be. That guy is a real panty-dropper… takes shit from everyone but remains unmoved, getting more ass than anyone else in the room…and is the first thing a drunk girl wants to see." He paused for effect, looking to see if there were any cute ladies who might be appreciating his great wit. No such luck. "Next time you're at a bar or club trying to pick up a girl… be a toilet."

There were no HAR HAR HARs this time. Not even a chuckle or two. The men wandered off, looking for a more happening bar. Tessa just hung her head. She must have lost a handful of brain cells at least, thanks to that unwanted encounter. Not only that, but in total, those jokes had left her feeling dirty in a figurative sense. Feeling her wet leg, she felt kind of filthy in a literal sense. That all made the next drink choice instinctive and quite apropos.

"FOR SURE," Tessa began. "I MUST HAVE SOME PENECILLIN." She pointed at the glossy photo. "MAKE IT A DOUBLE."

It was odd, her still being there. Wet, annoyed, and sad at the lack of love in her life, she didn't leave the bar and head back to her silent and sanitary cabin. She had no urge to hurry off… shower long and luxuriously… grab a good book that had nothing to do with relationships and romance… and crawl under her soft and comforting covers. Lonely people often gravitated to bars. Some for the company. Some for the drink. Some for both. And some for neither.

"Nothing cures the weary winter drinker like a Penicillin, made with blended Scotch…" She mumbled, reading the caption. "Smoky Islay Scotch, lemon juice, and honey ginger simple syrup. Created by Sam Ross, co-owner of New York's Attaboy, it'll bring you back to life like a Z-pack."

Not everyone would understand that last reference. Tessa did. Zithromax, trade name for azithromycin, was also known as Z-Pak. It is an antibiotic approved for treatment of respiratory, skin and other bacterial infections. But, there was a dark side to that drug. Studies link the drug to side effects, including an increased risk of fatal heart problems.

"Fatal heart problems," Tessa said, suddenly feeling very solemn and very tired, as if the weight of the entire world sat on her shoulders. She was no better off than Atlas.

Before the age of the Olympians in Greek mythology, there were the Titans. The Titans ruled in the universe during the Golden Age. One of the Twelve Titans was Atlas. He was the son of Titan god Iapetus and Titan goddess Clymene. The Titans ruled the universe until Zeus, son of the Titan Cronus, banded together with the Olympians to overthrow his father and battle the Titans for the universe.

During the Titan War, the Titans battled the Olympians for control of the universe. The Olympians included Greek gods Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, while the Titans included Cronus, Atlas, and Prometheus.

The Titans lost the war, and the Olympians banished the Titans to Tartarus. Tartarus was a deep abyss used as a prison for the Titan gods, and most of the Titans would spend eternity there.

Unlike his fellow Titans, Atlas had suffered a different punishment. Instead of being banished to Tartarus, Zeus enslaved Atlas, forcing him to hold up the earth on his shoulders for all time. Naturally, Atlas did not like holding up the earth on his shoulders, and he tried to get out of it many times. One such time involved Hercules.

Growing more looped with every sip that she sipped, Tessa whispered 'Hercules,' picturing Sousuke the way he had been one day, when she had run across him with his shirt off, wiping the sweat off of his body with a gym towel. Her special memory was tarnished as the injustice of her life piled up on her again, giving her no avenue of escape. She had to do all of the hard stuff, while girls her age all over the globe could fight their own battles… battle of the heart.

"If only I could trade places…." She took a long sip. She thought back to her visit to Jindai High School, and how it had felt, pretending to be one of the students.

Trading places.

How could she ever accomplish that?

She was an apple in Mithril's eye. She was a treasure trove of Black Technology. Her share of that mysterious data had to do with the undersea craft that she designed, and had been sentenced to command, hopefully not for eternity. It certain felt like a punishment at times. She could certainly commiserate with Atlas.

When Hercules visited King Eurystheus, after Apollo told him that such a visit was the first step in forgiveness for a great crime that he had committed, the ruler told Hercules that he would need to complete twelve difficult labors for him. One of those labors was to steal the golden apples that belonged to Zeus. These apples were in a garden and guarded by a hundred-headed dragon and the Hesperides sea nymphs. Hercules did not know how he was going to get past these guards to steal the golden apples, so he sought the help of Atlas at the advice of Prometheus.

Hercules visited Atlas and proposed a deal: if Atlas fetched the golden apples, Hercules would hold up the earth for him. Atlas willfully agreed. After Atlas had retrieved the apples, he returned to Hercules and told him that he would take the apples to King Eurystheus himself. After all, Atlas did not want to return to holding up the earth.

Hercules could not let Atlas do that, but at first did not know how to give him back the earth. But, he hatched an effective plan. He asked Atlas to take the earth for a moment while he placed some soft padding on his shoulders to help him hold great weight. When Atlas agreed and took the earth back on his shoulders, Hercules grabbed the apples and left Atlas at the edge of Creation, holding the world like he had done for so many years before.

"Bastard," Tessa growled, not concerned that someone next to her might mistake the target of her contempt. She coughed, taken aback. She had been siding with Atlas, naturally, and had cursed Hercules. But if Sousuke was Hercukles in her memory-.

She stopped that thought. Things threatened to spin out of control. "Sousuke's no bastard." It was true. He wasn't. She could never hate the young soldier for choosing someone other than her. That would be beneath her. And, it would put an end to her great hope. Teenage romances often end abruptly. She could be patient, couldn't she? "And as long as he's in Mithril… I have the chance to see him…."

Tessa suddenly spat out her drink, unnerved by the next song. It was Mighty Sparrow once again, singing about another topic he once took a great liking to. This earthy song was titled 'Big Bamboo':

I asked my woman what shall I do
To keep her honest and keep her true
She said "Sparrow all I want from you
Is a little little piece of the big bamboo"

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo grows up straight and strong
It stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

"That-" Tessa shivered, even though she wasn't feeling chilled. Part of her felt chaste and challenged, making her want to blush. But, she wasn't simply a dainty little wallflower, was she? She thought back to when she had told Sousuke to shut off the ARX-7s external auditory sensors, and had told Kaname that she was not going to lose.

She could be prudish, for certain, but she was no prude, right? There was a reason that Mao had once chained her to a bed. Still, she did have her own Kryptonite. A certain memory had her sitting tall on her stool, rigid and reticent. During a different chaperoned sleepover with Sousuke and her companions, she had rolled over to look at him… tethered again, as she was… and caught sight of his uniform pants. She had later heard the phrase 'Morning Wood.'

I gave my woman a sugar cane
Very very sweet, I must explain
She gave it back to me to my surprise
She said she loved the flavour, but not the size

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
(The big bamboo) It's so big and long
(The big bamboo) It stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

I gave my woman a coconut
She told me "it is ok, but"
To my surprise she gave it back to me:
What good is the nut, without the tree?

Tessa was ready this time. She didn't spit her drink. She felt a strange warmth about her, as the alcohol continue to weave its evil spell. Memories traded places with short snippets and stanzas of fantasy. Talking with Sousuke at a malt shop. Walking hand in hand down a tree-shaded avenue. Running on the beach, wearing skimpy swimwear. Looked in an embrace under a large autumn moon. Embarrassed, like the pair of innocents that they were, staring at the blinking sign outside of a Love Hotel. She shook her head violently, shaking away that image. The song was still playing:

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo it's so very long
The big bamboo, it stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

I gave my woman a banana plant
She told me she thought it was elegant
It much too nice to go to waste
But then it's much too soft to suit her taste

She said
The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo it's so big and long
(The big bamboo) It stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

Now ever since the world began
Woman were always fooling man
But we found out the women were always true
To men like me, with the big bamboo, alright!

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo it's so big and strong
(The big bamboo) It stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

"What am I doing?!" Tessa stopped short of slapping herself in the face. She had found herself standing, on top ofher bar stool, drink in hand. But not simply standing: she had been swaying softly to the music. "EEK!" She made a startled sound when a man in a monocle spoke in a German accent:

"Do you like the Big Bamboo, little miss?"

Tessa scooted back onto her seat, but not before taking a suspicious look at the man, her drunken mind spinning all sorts of conspiracy theories. German. Man. Seeming polite, but secretly sneaky and salacious. Could that be Kurz Weber in disguise? No. Of course not. He was way too short. But, that thought made her even more uncomfortable. Kurz and Mao could easily be somewhere watching her. She would be shocked if Mao wasn't there for the drinks, and Kurz wasn't there for the damsels and dames. She scanned the room with squinted eyes. No. No sign of them.

"Who really cares, anyway." Tessa said, the spirits speaking for her. "What are they going to do? Tattle on me to Mardukas? I'm not afraid of that guy!" Now, emboldened, she didn't get annoyed by the music… ignore the music… or feel embarrassed by it. She happily listened, as the recording voice of the treasured Trinidadian, real name Slinger Francisco, kept singing his take on a traditional tune:

Now it have a lot of men sitting here
Posing off and relaxing in the chair
But that one over there are going to make you look small
Your wife tell me you ain't got no bamboo at all

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo it it always strong
(The big bamboo) It stand up so straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

Now the big fat fellow sitting over there
You think that you are a big-wig heir
But - I'm going to spoil your joy
The ladies say you have a bamboo like a little boy

The big bamboo grows out from the ground
The big bamboo, so, so big and long
(The big bamboo) It stand up straight and tall
And the big bamboo pleases one and all

"The big bamboo…" Tessa began a little sing song. "The big bamboo… the big bamboo…." She had begun to feel very happy, joying in the false happiness that alcohol seductively offers. She felt no shame in eavesdropping on a conversation between a young Swedish sailor and the impish barmaid he was trying to impress.

"There's a ton of these name variations that describe the same drink," the eager young man professed, trying to sound like a fabulous font of knowledge. "For example… the 'Purple Haze' is also called a 'Purple Rain' … or 'Grateful Dead'. I've also heard it called a 'Royal Iced Tea'."

"I see," the girl said politely, her face clearly stating that she would rather be anywhere else than there, right now. She signaled a barkeep for a little help.

"A really annoying one to me is a 'Snake Bite,' you know?" The plucky sailor kept cruising along. "I mean…speaking to bartends on the east coast of the USA, it's a shot of Yukon Jack and Rose's Lime shaken and strained… but on the west coast it's a beer-based drink that's half Guinness and half cider." His voice went up an octave. "What makes this even more frustrating is that in some places… including the United Kingdom… it is half lager and half cider."

"Who knew that drinks have an alias, too." Tessa said to herself, ignorant to the scene where two bartenders helped form a wall, allowing the barmaid to beat a hasty retreat. She too, had cloaked herself in an alias or two. Teletha Mantissa. That was one she had used aboard the Pacific Chrysalis, a ship that many had mistakenly referred to as the 'Pacific Christmas'. That had her sighing again. In Japan, Christmas was a lover's holiday. It didn't hold the same significance it did in the Western world.

She thought back in time again. She was on a Soviet made transport aircraft, large enough to transport tanks, and bigger than a C-17 Globemaster. She was tied up, and being used as a shield by Steven Harris, captain of the Pacific Chrysalis, and an Amalgam agent.

"I've come to bring you back," Sousuke had said, having come to her rescue. "Give up and hand her over. The ship is going down. There's still time to escape." Harris had replied that he just wanted to take them down with them, since Mithril would drain his mind of secrets if he was captured, or Amalgam would do even worse in punishment for his failures.

Harris had pressed his pistol against her neck. Despite great risk of hitting Tessa by accident on the lurching and swaying airship, Sousuke had fired, killing his opponent.

"He didn't have a parachute," Tessa said to herself looking down in her drink. The airship had been in danger of disintegrating before it struck the water. She had told Sousuke that there was nothing that could save them.

"There's one last chance," the Arm Slave pilot had replied calmly, a moment before the airship's wings broke in half. "Now hold on to me tight." They had been thrown for the doomed craft. As it turned out, she couldn't hold tight. She fell, alone, watching as burning debris fell with her. But there was a dark shape gliding skillfully towards her. It was Sousuke, using his arms and legs to manipulate the wind. He was quite adept at the free fall technique. His lips had touched her ears, but his words were not romantic.

"Hold on to me… don't let go… brace for impact." And then, the happenings seemed miraculous to her. The figure of an advancing white Arm Slave filled her vision, as Arbalest was free falling too, having jettisoned its wings. She and Sousuke landed hard in the mecha's outstretched hand, after the AS had chased them downward to provide a rescue. "Open parachute," Sousuke had called out to the AI, and the parachute on Arbalest's back burst open. They were safe, then.

But, she had not been elated. She had wondered if he had come to save her out of duty, or because he might have feelings for her. "Mr. Sagara," she had said. "Do you like Kaname?" Sousuke had replied "Probably, yes." She had then asked "More than Me?" Sousuke had simply said "Yes."

All in all, it had been a terrible birthday. She could share that birthday with Kaname. But she could not share Sousuke's heart with her, no matter how hard she had pleaded with God for that one Christmas wish.

"THE REGRET," Tessa said, when asked if she wanted a refresher. That request came without any thought. Her heart asked for that one, with its popular mix of Death's Door vodka, lime juice, and rosemary, all served on the rocks. "THANK YOU."

She stared for a long time at the photograph of a 'Hanky Panky,' her drunken mind abuzz, trying not to be seduced by the allure of the simple mixture of Fernet-Branca, gin, and vermouth. She fought the urge to call the name her next drink a 'Bloody Kaname,' because she didn't really dislike the blue-haired girl. She quickly quaffed the Bloody Mary, barely tasting the brunch-time staple, despite the tomato juice, vodka, spices… and the olive and bacon that the acolyte barkeep had added as garnishes. She had the sudden urge to ask if someone could bring her a plate of cheeseburgers.

Tessa began requesting drinks in alphabetical order, taking a few sips of each before moving on to the next. But, her plan changed when she got to 'G' and asked for a Gin Fizz. She simply said "LEAVE THE BOTTLE, PLEASE." After downing themix of gin, lemon, sugar, egg, and soda, she turned to gin alone.

Time passed. Tessa grew less and less aware of the world around her, and less and less concerned with the thoughts and opinions of any observers now, or the memories of any onlookers later. Even when the next creep appeared, she felt as if she lived through the whole affair as if she were safely watching a television show, rather than dealing with it in real life.

"Scotch Whiskey is made from barley…." A man in a well-worn smoking jacket held up a glass, ogling Tessa. "…And the morning dew on angel's nipple." He paused, looking for some response. "Right… angel…."

Tessa should have taken offense, but only halfway did. She should have been affronted, but merely shrugged things off. It was a concerned bartender who threatened the man and caused him to rush off to find another prime perch.

Another bout of eavesdropping had her cradling the gin bottle in her arms, rubbing it as she whispered entreaties.

"One story tells that a jealous djinn… ummm… sometimes identified as Asmodeus… I think-" A long-haired Assistant Groundkeeper was saying to his drinking buddies. "-Stole Solomon's ring while Solomon bathed in the river Jordan. The djinn seated himself on Solomon's throne at his palace and reigned over his kingdom, forcing Solomon to become a wanderer. God compelled the djinn to throw the ring into the sea. Solomon retrieved it and punished the djinn by imprisoning him in a bottle."

"He he heeee-eee-ee-e." Tessa continued with her rubbing.

"As far as the lamp itself is concerned, it was yet another household container that one might find anywhere." The Communications Officer in the shocking pink shirt and homemade wreath of flowers added, referring to the connection between genies and bottles. "The connection between lamps and spirits was fairly common in Jewish culture …see Revelation 4:5 for one example, right… so it is possible the significance of that type of imagery played a factor in a lamp being chosen for the tale of Aladdin rather than a bottle or a jar."

"A whole new worl-lll-ll-ld-" Tessa began singing, badly. She was secretly a very big fan of Disney movies, 'Aladin' chief among them. "A new fantastic point of view…No one to tell us, 'No'… or where to go…or say we're only dreaming." She took a long swig from the half-empty bottle. "A whole new world… a dazzling place I never knew… but when I'm way up here… it's crystal clear… that now I'm in a whole new world with you-uuuuu-uuuu-uuu-uu-u." She then whispered "Now I'm in a whole new world with you.' Unbeknownst to her, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Somewhat unnerved by the singing, the bar pals moved a few stools away from the besotted young Captain.

"Genies, or jinn as the Arabic word is Romanized, come from a long line of mythological creatures dating back to 2400 BC." The Communications Officer was answering a question asked by one of the barmaids. "According to the Qur'an, God created jinn out of the 'fire of a scorching wind'. It wasn't until later that humans were made from mud and clay. Clearly the jinn got the better end of that deal." He banged glasses with a buddy. "No source states how much time passed between the birth of the jinn and the birth of humans. They had plenty of time to form their own societies, found their own religions, and write their own laws, so it's a safe bet to say-"

"Quite a lot of years," the Groundskeeper piped up quickly. "Djinn-" He always mentally added the 'D' to jinn. "-Are much more than demons or spirits. They're intelligent, free-willed creatures who live close to nature and are endowed with magical powers. Very much like humans, only more supernatural. Some of them are good… some are evil… and still more are somewhere in-between. We can pretty much count on them being tricksters in one form or another… so as a general rule, don't go out hoping to meet a jinn."

"I want to meet a Gin," Tessa cooed, using her own spelling. She belched, and didn't care a fig that she did. She resumed her rubbing.

"Although they can change their appearance at will, jinn do seem to follow some patterns in their choice of physical manifestations." That came from the blind man in the group, a former Mithril intelligence officer, who had spent a long rehabilitation period at the island's medical facilities. "One source states that they always have thick fur on their legs, no matter the form they take."

"I wish that Kaname had thick hair on her legs," Tessa told the bottle. "Unless Sousuke likes girls with hairy legs."

"The jinn came in every shape and size, some with hooves, with long tails and flapping ears; some with bodiless heads and headless bodies," the Communication officer offered. "The race of jinn is filled with different types of demons and spirits, each with its own place in the pandemonium. There are shaitan… nasnas… ghuls… ifrit… and marid. Marid jinn are usually the ones we find imprisoned in bottles. They're the most powerful and arguably the most evil of all of the jinn."

"Sadly, the race of jinn eventually made the big guy upstairs mad," a chaplain said, sipping on a fruity but non-alcoholic beverage. "And He caused them to lose their great civilization and scatter to the wind. Some were even imprisoned in the process. Since then, jinn only appear when they want to mess with humans. There are even tales about human-jinn mating taking place, not to mention theories that Adam's first companion was actually a female jinni, not Eve." He made the sign of the cross, feeling a touch blasphemous offering that historic tidbit.

"MATING!" Tessa blurted out, giggling immediately thereafter. reason gone. Was that an exhortation, some witnesses wondered. Or, might that be an invitation?

"What about the wish stuff," another barkeep asked, before being pulled back to work by her apron.

"Let's see," the Groundskeeper replied. "In one of the stories from 'Arabian Nights,' a fisherman discovered a brass vessel and opened it. Guess what popped out? A big evil marid jinni named… you got it… Asmodeus! After being trapped for four hundred years, Asmo wasn't in the greatest of moods."

"Who would be?" Tessa asked a little too loudly.

"The marid then revealed that he had long contemplated how to reward or punish the one who freed him from his prison." The chaplain remarked. "One of his ideas was to grant this person three wishes."

"Yes-" The Communications Officer interjected. "-But instead, he let the fisherman choose how he would be killed. In any case the jinni did mention wishes… so that seems to be the earliest specific reference to three wishes being granted by a freed genie."

The conversation continued in more depth, but Tessa no longer paid attention. She had heard many tales of Djinn as a child, and knew all about the whole wish thing. That's why she continued to stroke the bottle, in a way that made some female onlookers feel very uncomfortable. "Three wishes," she said. "What would I choose if I found a bottle with a genie inside." She pictured Barbara Eden dressed in her infamous outfit. She had loved watching reruns of 'I Dream Of Jeannie.' Could she win a certain someone's heart if she dressed like that and did a belly dance for him? "I know what I would wish for. Blue hair. Bigger boobies. And Sousuke!" She giggled. "I want titties like kitties…." Sure, it rhymed, but what the hell did it mean? "…Big ones, not itty bitties."

There.

She had said it.

Now that she was sure of the truth, why not proclaim it before the entire world: "I… WANT… SOUSUKE SAGARA!" She listened. The world did not offer an argument or a rebuttal. "SERGEANT SWEETIE PIE!"

Wait.

That wasn't too over the top, was it?

Well, being boozed up sometimes helps people blurt out the truth to everyone, or at least admit truths to oneself. She certainly wished that she didn't have to to give up on a certain Sergeant. Liquor can also help one do things that they would never ever want to do when they were completely sober. For example, being the center of attention… seeming somewhat unprofessional… or sharing their teenaged longing with everyone. And no one should forget that enough drink can not only cause one to stop caring what you are doing, but also make it so that one doesn't even realize half of what one is doing.

Tessa had lost her analytical mind, and a whole boatload of inhibitions. "Wishing is the way to go." She looked at her bottle. It was nearly empty. She felt a strong upswelling of anger and suspicion. Had someone swiped most of her gin? She felt a strange urge to protect the small remaining amount of sloshing alcohol.

Who was to say that if she wished hard enough and long enough she wouldn't get what she wants? As Kurz once remarked to Mao, whenever the young Captain was told by someone that she couldn't do something, she made it a point to prove them wrong. Proof of that was an Arm Slaves match involving paintball bullets between Tessa and Mao over the argument as whether or not the younger of the two women could pilot an Arm Slave or not. While training with Sousuke in preparation for the match, Tessa had fallen from Arbalest's entry ladder, and had landed on top of Sousuke. That was a cherished memory. She had stayed glued to him, not letting him up, as he try to squirm out from under her. She had a secret belief that he must have seen down her athletic shirt, if only for the briefest of moments.

The memories of her falls while piloting the ARX7 were not so pleasant, so she tried to erase then from her memory. Those, and her ignominious AS faceplant in the nearby ocean. But she had impressed him with her strategic thinking, regarding the battle planning she later did for the upcoming match. In addition, he had radioed assurances during the fight and had saved her from the brink of giving up. She had won the skirmish, thanks to a trap that she and Sousuke had set up. Yes, and after she had emerged the victor, she and Mao had both booted Kurz right on the kisser when he brought up the part about the loser having to run naked around the base.

"Mao toldsh me theresh no waysh in the worldsh that I could winsh Sousuke's heart,' Tessa slurred. "Maybesh I need some kindsh of trap." She giggled again. "Or maybe just blue hair and bigger boobies." She gave the bottle another serious set of rubs just in case.

Tessa's emotions swirled about her, like a mighty djin coming to lift her into the air. Giddiness sped by on the right. But, soon thereafter, sorrow flew right through her chest. Hopefulness came to her rescue on the left. And then doubt slammed her upside the head. In similar fashion, reality and a blurry version of it merged and then split apart, as her conscious mind sought sleep, and her unconscious mind sought control. Like a Pachinko ball, she bounced from one activity to another, her course random and unpredictable. The slur in her voice disappeared, following the last few vestiges of her inhibitions.

She heard a song, and saw a crowd gathering. Intrigues, she skittered this way and that, intent to see what the hubbub was all about. Cubby Checker's voice flowed from disguised speakers:

Every limbo boy and girl

All around the limbo world

Gonna do the limbo rock

All around the limbo clock

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick

Jack go under limbo stick

All around the limbo clock

Hey, let's do the limbo rock

There was a line of cheering people, some sober and some way past that. Pushing by a pair of chattering women, Tessa watched as each dancer approached a horizontal metal bar supported by two vertical wooden bars. Each subsequent contestant attempted to go under the bar with their backs facing toward the floor. While passing under the bar, they each bent backwards. No part of their body was allowed to touch the bar, and no part other than their feet was permitted to touch the ground. They were not supposed to turn their head or neck to the side. Whoever knocked the bar off or falls over would be eliminated. After everyone has passed under the bar in this manner, the bar was lowered by a slight amount and the contest continued. The contest would supposedly end when only one person could pass under the bar, or so the tipsy Captain overheard.

"I can do that," she said, as plucky as can be. Butting in line, she sashayed towards the bar, a drink still in her hand. "I bet Kaname couldn't do it." True, Kaname was an atheete, and she herself was one of the greatest klutzes to ever walk the good green earth. Logic had packed its bags and flown out of her world a while back.

Limbo lower now

Limbo lower now

How low can you go

First you spread your limbo feet

Then you move to limbo beat

Limbo ankolimboneee,

Bend back like a limbo tree

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick

Jack go under limbo stick

All around the limbo clock

Hey, let's do the limbo rock

Everyone who knew Tessa expected her to fall over, ass over tea cup, spilling her drink all over the play area. Who could blame them? But, miracle of miracles, she made her way under, the lack of conscious thought shooing away any fears or foibles she might otherwise have.

Get yourself a limbo girl

Give that chic a limbo whirl

There's a limbo moon above

You will fall in limbo love

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick

Jack go under limbo stick

All around the limbo clock

Hey, let's do the limbo rock

She made a number of passes at the bar… how many she couldn't hope to remember. Eventually, the game proved too much for her, and she keeled over. The small remnant of her last surviving ice cube skittered across the floor and disappeared under a Philodendron. Laughing, she picked herself up and headed deeper into uncharted waters.

Don't move that limbo bar

You'll be a limbo star

How low can you go

"HOW LOW CAN YOU GO…." Tessa sang along with the crowd, and kept singing when the verse ended. "HOW LOW CAN YOU GO…. HOW LOW CAN YOU GO… HOW LOW CAN YOU GO…. O HOW LOW CAN YOU GO GO GO-OOOO-OOO-OO-O…."

Unable to connect the mental dots, she had no knowledge of how she made it over to the Karaoke area. Waving her rank about effusively, she wobbled over to the primo machine, and scrolled down a list of songs. 'O! Yes! That one!' She pushed buttons, and scrolled down on the screen, pushing the 'Select' button. Lyrics appeared on the view screen. The placed the microphone to her mouth and belted out the words like she was a cat on a hot tin roof:

Once there was a Princess
Was the Princess, you?
And she fell in love
Was it hard to do-ooo-ooo-oo-o?

At first, the crowd was stunned into silence. Like dominoes falling, area after surrounding area of the vast entertainment area went dead silent too. One might have expected snickering or divisive laughter. One wiseacre dis shout 'Everybody run for the door!' But, few partygoers laughed. Those who knew the song closed their eyes and sung along. Those who didn't, watched the large monitors that displayed the lyrics, voluntarily joining the swell of lilting voices, or at least mumbling the words when their dates gave them an expectant look. Numerous people held up lit candles or cigarette lighters. Even more onlookers held up cell phones, set to record.

Well, it was very easy
Anyone could see that the Prince was charming
The only one for me
Was he strong and handsome?
Was he big and tall?
There's nobody like him anywhere at all
Did he say he loved ya?
Did he steal a kiss? Did his cheek have a scar, like an 'X'.

The entire crowd sang out the next too lines, so loud that Tessa couldn't even hear the booming music:

He was so romantic
I could not resist

"My turn again," Tessa shouted out, picking up the lead role again, almost falling over backwards:

Someday my prince will come
Someday we'll meet again
And away to his castle we'll go
To be happy forever I know
Someday when spring is here
We'll find our love anew
And the birds will sing and wedding bells will ring
Someday when my dreams come trueoooo u oooooo u oooooo

The crowed yelled their approval after that, with the yays drowning out the nays. The applause made Tessa feel like she belonged, and gave her the courage to let her blast doors down all of the way. Not even the best psychologist… sociologist… or anthropologist could explain the next steps in her adventure. She spilled out her heart to the mass of humanity, not realizing that the tide had quickly changed, and that most people were wandering off to find the next big thing.

"You know…" She said, after hearing someone talk about family in a loud tortured tone. "My brother was a real dick!" She was too sloshed to have her Mao-esque choice of words shock her. But, even that was nothing compared to that which followed. "But… you know…." She sounded crestfallen, drawing the attention of a couple of kind elderly women. "I've never even touched a dick!" There were times when she was sober, that she truly felt gypped by Fate, never being able to experience the things that she sometimes heard other women whispering about. "But!" She smiled. "I did see one!" Her triumph quickly vanished, and she put a hand to her mouth to keep her gastric contents in.

The memory was not a pleasant one.

Extremely tired, waking after only a few hours sleep during a troublesome patrol, she had mistakenly wandered into the Men's washroom instead of the Woman's. There, towel in hand, stood a naked Mardukas. Tessa now wished to the heavens above that she could see a big red 'X' where a certain anatomical protuberance hung low, but her memory would not oblige.

Thinking of her brother, had her thinking of the events surrounding his death again. She didn't dwell on the sadder aspects. No. Not at all. She had played a part in the planetary rescue mission, too. She would regale the small group of people around her at a small backroom bar with an exciting retelling:

"The Tuatha de Danaan was mortally wounded (hic)," the tiny Captain hiccoughed, arm behind her back and her legs akimbo. "She had taken two hits on the starboard, and one on the port side. One of them was a direct hit from a torpedo, right near the hangar deck. There was no stopping the flood, and even with the help of the ballast tanks we couldn't keep the ship upright." She looked at the other merrymakers expectantly.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh

Tessa frowned. She had hoped for more enthusiasm. Never mind. "There was a fire in the crew quarters (hic)… it was more than the automatic extinguishers could handle, and there was no one left for fire-fighting duties." She paused again.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

"It was only because of its size and special construction that the submarine wasn't sinking, but it was already at its limit. " She imitated a crew members voice next. 'ADSLMM activating... a hit on Mike eighteen!' One of the Leviathans had gotten caught in our trap. The enemy that was coming in to deliver the final blow to the de Danaan, who could no longer hide in the depths or even maintain full speed, had encountered one of their self-propelled mines (hic). The chief sonar operator confirmed the destruction of the enemy vessel. However, no one could draw breath yet… instead, we were all preparing for another attack. Our target was the first gate of the underwater passage into this island, that was now blocked by what looked like a fence of some steel alloy. Holding a blood-soaked piece of gauze near my temple, I continued giving orders: 'Weapons free!' Someone answered: 'Aye, torpedoes away'!" Tessa put a hand to one ear and listened.

Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

"WHAT?!" Tessa didn't like that response.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That was better, if somewhat repetitive. She resumed her swashbuckling tale: "Five torpedoes left their tubes and headed for their mark… one of our launch tubes had been rendered inoperable during the fight. Two of those torpedoes were programmed to explode first, clearing away the enemy mines. The de Danaan continued to advance with three other torpedoes speeding along in a stream of bubbles. The enemy's short-range coastal defenses started their work, showering us once again with torpedoes (hic). We tried to outrun them as fast as we could. The torpedoes detonated around us, one after the other. BOOM!"

That loud and unexpected shout caused one woman to spill her drink onto her male companion's lap. She glowered when a serving girl offered to wipe it off with a hand towel.

"One torpedo hit… the ship lurched under us… and I struggled to remain in my seat." Tessa rocked her bar stool wildly from side to side. "One of the bridge's main screens flickered and went black. The damage control officer reported that fires and leaks were springing up around the ship, and we had lost our second starboard rudder. Despite this, we could still move… and we accelerated. Our own torpedoes hit the underwater barrier and exploded. As the ship rammed the tattered fence, the impact felt similar to a direct hit of a torpedo. Everything shook… ceiling panels fell directly on Commander Mardukas…." She hid a chuckle behind one hand. "…Somebody screamed, and the lights flickered. Despite that, our forty-four thousand ton vessel was through the gate, and inside the channel."

Wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

"Load the next ones!" Tessa shouted. "In progress... two... one... completed!" That had been spoken is another fake voice. "On one of the remaining screens, the status of the torpedo tubes changed from amber to green, and the label 'ARM' appeared near them. I shouted 'Fire!' The last salvo… five torpedoes… sped towards the second underwater gate (hic). One of them misfired, and four explosions shook the tunnel. The shockwave propagated through the water and came right at the submarine's bow. The ship was shaken again, and started uncontrollably veering to the starboard, towards the tunnel wall. As the gigantic body of the ship brushed the wall, creating an unearthly screeching sound, the bridge shook fiercely. Someone called out 'Reactor one and two crossing critical temperature levels! Any more and-", but I merely said 'Maintain full speed! I don't care if we blow up'!"

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh

And do you know what I was thinking at that dramatic moment?" Tessa looked to see if anyone wanted to venture a guess. None did. So, she blithely continued: I was thinking, 'I don't want to die a virgin'!"

WH-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-AH!

The scenes blurred together again, and Tessa found herself telling more about her past. Specifically, she spoke back to the days when she imagined herself to be in a contest to win Sousuke Sagara's favor.

'YAY-YYYY-YYY-YY-Y" the listeners would shout, whenever she said 'Tessa,' speaking about herself in the third person. 'BOO-OOO-OO-O' they would boom out, whenever they heard the name 'Kaname.'

Before she realized what she was doing, the Captain found herself in the midst of her next gaffe. She was sharing secrets. "When I used to sing in the shower, I pretended I was Madonna." "When I was a little girl, I wet the bed." "Sometimes, when I'm not paying attention, I pick my nose (hic)."

"Do you eat it?" The barkeep asked.

"…" That caught Tessa off guard.

"I bet she does," a ship's cook grumped. He dabbled in nasal cuisine himself.

"No way!" An assistant chaplain shook his Bible at the cook, before slurping down a shot of Sambuca.

"Yes!" "No!" "Hell yes!" "Heavens, no!" More and more people took sides and shouted. Bets were placed. A tussle broke out… grew into a scrum… and then turned into a full-fledged battle royal. When the dust settled, everyone… bloodied or not… turned expectantly towards Tessa, waiting for her answer.

"…" She couldn't get any words out, and quickly left that bar when the two sides began shouting at each other again. Without realizing how it happened, she found herself as the caboose in a long jaunty conga line, the procession weaving like a snake through the festive crowd. Thinks went dark, briefly, until she realized that someone had placed a lampshade on her head, one made of coconut fibers, and sporting two miniature native girls in grass skirts. The plastic girls were mounted on flimsy springs, and swayed when she swayed, bouncing when she bounced.

"Left leg 1-2-3 kick," Tessa laughed. "Right leg 1-2-3 kick…." She lifted her legs in time with the rhythm of the music, marking each beat with the strong motion of their body, moving in ways that would be sensual if she wasn't so patently awkward. A member of a band which had been playing that part of the room had been the one who started it all, banging out the rhythm on a drum that hung around his neck, and gathering up a growing train of dancers. The beat grew quicker and quicker, and the motions grew wilder and wilder.

"Weeee-eee-ee-e!" Tessa called out gleefully, moments before her hold loosened and she was shot like a bullet out of a snapping slingshot. "No-ooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o!" Her fleeting flight ended when she collided with a number of people, and ended up hatless, her face buried in an elderly gentleman's crotch. She looked up quickly, her eyes blinking rapidly. She rubbed those eyes, vision clearing.

The man was the same one who had rescued her from the attackers who had killed her mother. It was Jerome Borda…. Twenty-fifth Chief of Naval Operations for the U.S. Navy… and leader of Mithril's Operations Department. Presumed dead after an explosion leveled Operations Headquarters in Sydney following one of Amalgam's initial attacks on Mithril, he had survived and was the one most active in the rebuilding of the mercenary organization.

"S-S-Sorry Uncle Jerry," Tessa blurted out, backing up swiftly. She beat a hasty retreat when the conga line curved back on itself, and passed between her and her startled acquaintance.

Some time later, the inebriated Captain found herself at another bar, perched upon another stool, another menu in hand. She fought to keep her eyelids up. She fought harder to keep her fantasy world up. And to keep her booze down. She froze, suddenly. She slid off her chair… looked this way… and looked that.

"Sousuke…."

Had that been Sousuke? Had she seen Sousuke? Squinting through weary eyes, she scanned the room, once, and then again.

She couldn't catch any sight of him. But, before her vision settled back as close to normal as it could, there had been a few taunting seconds where every man in the room looked like that singular Sergeant. "Well then… there must be enough to go around, then…." She belched. "Then there's no reason for me to give up for sure!" She tossed the menu back on the bar, causing a large wandering pet hermit crab to pull back inside its shell. She didn't see the drink listed. She didn't even know if it existed. "GIVE ME A WISHFUL THINKING, GARCON."

"Sure thing, Ma'm" The barkeep said, preparing for action. "That's two ounces sloe gin…one ounce unaged Martinique rum… one ounce Prosyro Double Ginger Syrup… one ounce fresh lime juice…three dashes Angostura Aromatic Bitters… topped off with three dashes of absinthe."

At this point in the evening, everything tasted the same. As she sipped, Tessa heard a familiar voice singing. It was another Mighty Sparrow ditty, 'Only A fool.' She didn't like that song title. Uh uh. Not one bit.

Why do I keep fooling myself
When I know you love someone else
Only a fool breaks his own heart
I pretend that I don't see

"NAH NAH NAH… I'M NOT LISTENINNN-NNN-NN-G…." She tried to drown out the song, unsuccessfully. Her temples throbbed.

When you walk with him down the street
Only a fool breaks his own heart
I have to admit it

Tessa put her fingers in her ears, dropping her cocktail glass in the process. It bounced across the venue, causing a couple on the dance floor to drip and fall into a real potted bush covered with fake painted butterflies.

Even though you hurt me so girl
I can't forget it
If I'm a man I'd let you go
It's no use trying to hang on

The song soon became unimportant. Everything became unimportant. The light in the room grew dimmer and dimmer, as her eyelids fell lower and lower.

"I'm going to name this new drink a Pinata Colada," a barkeep said, holding up a large pitcher of drink. "Sweet and sumptuous going down. But when you wake up the next morning… your head feels like it was beaten with a stick."

Tessa raised one hand weakly, thinking that she might like to try a new drink, unfazed by the comedic description.

Without warning, everything went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn….

The raucous sound of the alarm dragged her by the ankles from the serenity of slumber.

There was light. Then a little more. Then a little more yet.

Tessa slowly opened her eyes, fumbling with one fist, trying to bang the 'silence' button on top of her alarm clock. She hit it too hard and off center, causing it to slide off of her bedside table and onto the floor.

Ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernn ernnernnernnernnernn… ern….. erm… ern (end).

By the sounds of things, the clock had bounced under the bed.

"Rnrnlmrnll." The word she growled had no meaning, at least no meaning to fully conscious adults.

The waking Captain had one whale of a headache. She felt exhausted, and wondered what time she had fallen asleep. No. Not 'what'. That was not the most important pronoun. 'Who.' Who had brought her back to her room? And who had dressed her. No, again. Who had un-dressed her and then dressed her in her pajamas?

"Blech." Tessa needed a drink of water. Or, maybe some juice or tea. Her mouth was dry. After sitting up, she was dizzy, and was hit by a strong feeling of fatigue. "Owwwww-wwww-www-ww-w…." She rubbed at her temples. Then, she put one hand on her abdomen and one over her mouth. Her belly had grumbled like a she-bear defending her cubs. A wave of intesnse nausea rolled over her. She fought the urge to lay back down… or to call an orderly… have him fetch a stretcher or wheelchair… and then have him speed her to the base infirmary. "O no." It wasn't the upper end of her alimentary tract alone that threatened retribution for the previous night's misadventures.

Tessa wasn't the tiniest bit hungry. She was sweating, and the light still seemed much too bright for her eyes. She heard a faint noise out in the corridor, and nearly jumped out of her clothing. For some reason, as she grew more awake, the more she grew more depressed, without thinking of any reason that she should be unhappy.

Soon enough, she understood.

She was experiencing one doozy of a hangover. She wracked her brain, trying to remember what the biological cause of that condition might be. While the causes of a hangover are still poorly understood, several factors are known to be involved.

"Is it acetaldehyde accumulation?" She thought that might be a contributing cause. "Changes in my immune system and glucose metabolism" Maybe those, too. "Is there some role for dehydration, metabolic acidosis, and disturbed prostaglandin synthesis?" It could be, along with increased cardiac output, vasodilation, sleep deprivation and malnutrition.

The good news was that the symptoms usually occur after the intoxicating effect of the alcohol begin to wear off. The bad news was that a hangover could last as little as a few hours… but could also last as long as twenty-four hours.

There was a miniature man with a miniscule jackhammer inside her head, drilling, mining, banging away at her last remaining nerve.

Wait. What was that. A sound growing louder.

"Grrrr." Tessa wanted to get up… walk to the door… and lay down the letter of the law. No way. Not while feeling like this. No. Her anger added to her dyspepsia. It was against base rules to have boom boxes on the base… especially in the corridors near the sleeping quarters. "Urp!" A large gas bubble had her making another sour face.

And that voice. The singer on the recording. Why did he sound so very familiar?

Drink and drunk yes that's me name,
Always make me family shame
Like Mary-Anne all day all night,
I start whoring high like a Kite
It's Christmas everyday is Christmas,
I could drink me rum trust,
Even in the Mass, I Love to be

Drunk and disorderly
Always in custody
Me friends and me family
All man fed up with me, cause I
Drunk and disorderly
Every weekend I in the jail
Drunk and disorderly, nobody to stand me bail

I can't stop Lord and I won't try,
I feel so good when I high
So bring wine, bring beer, bring gin…

Somehow, the word 'gin' seemed like a dirty word. But why? There was an awful lot that she didn't remember about the night before.

"Great," Tessa muttered. "Good job girl. Go to the bar… drink yourself into a stupor… pass out… and pay the price." It was lucky that she wasn't a college girl, waking up drunk at some frat party. Who knows what kind of price there might be to pay in that kind of situation. She shuddered. She could just picture Mardukas's glare, if she walked onto the bridge of Da Danaan, five months pregnant or so. Yikes! She also imagined herself sitting in the Captain's chair, knitting a pair of baby booties while she ordered a cruise missile attack on an enemy base. "There's no reason to make up such silly nightmares."

Nightmares? No. But, she could dream, couldn't she? Especially after admitting the truth to herself last night. A truth that had been hanging in front of her like unexplode ordinance for some while, now. She, like others, had thought that she had thrown in the towel. Not so fast, folks. A pleasant little mental vignette unfolded. She was dressed like a 50s housewife… she was carrying a pair of slippers in one hand and a pipe in the other… she strutted elegantly into the living room, finding Sousuke sitting in his favorite overstuffed chair, his silk robe on, newspaper opened in his lap, and feet up on an ornate ottoman.

Nightmares. Dreams. They all gave way to a fiercer headache, more bloating, and a turgid coated tongue.

While running through folk remedies for hangovers in her head, the young woman froze. She thought that she had heard a noise, one coming from inside the cabin this time. No. Not just any noise! Had than been a snore?! Thoughts of remedies vanished, she was afraid to look at the other side of the bed.

Snor-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-re.

"Eep!" Tessa put her hands over her eyes, and swiveled her head so that she would have a view of the sound's source, should she work up the courage to spread her fingers. She did so, very slowly.

Snorrrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-e.

"O No!" She had opened her fingers enough to see part of a body. What had she done? What had she done to someone? With someone? What had been done to her? "Wh-… wh-… who?"

It was a man's body. A young man's. The body was sleek, yet powerful.

Tessa couldn't help but stare. That body was well-shaped, and not covered with unnecessary muscular bulges. There were scars… way too man scars. She spread her fingers further, and almost wished that she hadn't. The body was naked, and the sheets and blankets had fallen almost entirely off. Only a small amount of bed covering covered the body, in the groin area. And that staunch piece of fabric was tented upward, as if Atlas himself toiled underneath it.

Why were her eyes drawn to that scandalous spectacle?!

"Nyah!" Tessa shook her head. She was not a cat. But, she felt some instinct inside her, that had her feeling the primal urge to jump on the bulge the way a kitty would pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. She pulled her bed coverings tightly to her, bring her blanket up over her mouth and nose, blinking from the fuzzies at the blanket edge.

Snorrrrrrrr-rrrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-re, snort snort.

Tessa felt as if she were about to explode into a cosmos of fiery fragments, or freeze up, fall off the bed, and shatter into a myriad of tiny ice shards. This had to be a dream. But it was not a dream. Wait. Was it all bad? Slowly, her wit addled by her pain and disorientation, she began to remember where she had seen those scars. They were like a road map, leading her to her bedmate's identity. Much like snowflakes, no man's scars are identical to another man's.

The face was turned away from her. But, she was pretty certain that it must be Sousuke. How had he gotten here? Why was she in her bed. No. There was an even bigger question. Why was he naked. Should she be happy? Sad? Scared?

She stiffened her spine. She was Teletha Testarossa. She was no coward. She reached out her hand, to jostle the man, hoping that he would awaken, or at least turn his face in her direction.

Her hand went right though the body!

Tessa rubbed her eyes. She was not dreaming. She reached out her hand again,with the same result. It passed right through the lifelike 3D image.

Snorrrrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrr-rrrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-re.

"What?" Tessa closed her eyes, and triangulated. She rolled over on her side, feeling very strange doing so. She picked up the unused pillow and found a small transmitter underneath. "What?" Also, who… when… and w-h-y. "WHAT?!" She could reason out an answer. A hologram. Someone had created a hologram of as slumbering and naked Sousuke. They had set up a projector in her room. They were pretending to snore somewhere at a microphone.

Only one person came to mind. Before she could whisper his name, Tessa cursed, annoyed by the funny feelings that were finally coming into fine focus.

There was a good reason that her head felt like it was full of felt or fuzz. Something heavy sat on her head. And there was a reason that her chest felt tight and her abdomen felt compressed.

Her pajama blouse was greatly distended.

She slid out of bed, shirt swaying wildly to the left and to the right. Something covering her hair fell across her eyes, and she nearly tripped over her doffed pair of shoes. Pushing the rough material aside, she regained her vision and walked over to stand in front of her mirror.

For the briefest of moments, she thought 'It came true… my wish came true!' Her breasts were huge. And her hair was blue. But, it wasn't really her hair. Someone had dyed the end of a large mop bright blue. And those large bulges under her blouse were not her. They were not even human… or animal, for that matter. Looking down her shirt, she froze again. Grapefruits. Someone had undone her bra… placed grapefruits between her breasts and the Wonder Bra… and closed the woman's wear as best they could… with the help of a piece of wire and a sturdy rubber band.

"I'm such an idiot," Tessa exclaimed. " I should have known it wasn't Sousuke. He's still in Tokyo." She wasn't certain if she was disappointed… or relieved.

"But he isn't," a voice said, as the door to Tessa's cabin opened. Two people were standing there. It was no shock to see who the two were… especially the long-haired blonde sniper. "Sousuke flew back in early last night." It was Kurz, of course, perpetrator of the hologram hoax. He had photographed a sleeping Sousuke with a special camera weeks ago, and had bribed an I.T. whiz kid to create the hologram for him, just in case the perfect situation arose. And it had!

"But… but… but…." Tessa was too worried at the moment to feel her fury… much less unleash it. "If he was at the party…." If he had seen her in her condition, he would never be able to respect her, never be able to see her as someone worthy of his affection… or friendship.

"He probably wasn't," Mao said. "The kitchens supplying that shitty shindig didn't have any fucking fresh white rolls." She shrugged. "I hear rumor that he spent the evening trying to find someone who would open the base commissary."

"Did you undress me?" Tessa ask Mao, hope in her voice but danger in her eyes.

"Nope," Mao said, a bitter look on her face. She had already given her squad member two bodacious beatings for his misbehavior. "I didn't put you in that get up, either."

"Sergeant Weber?" Tessa sighted her gaze on Kurz, as if she were a WWII submarine setting her bow in the direction of an intended torpedo target.

"Tessa… babe… would I do that?" Kurz looked too brazen for his own good. "Don't you think I'm smart enough and kind enough to get some helpful young lady to lend a hand?"

"Uh huh." Tessa narrowed her eyes. Whenever Kurz answered a question with a question, there was a good chance that he was trying to escape some form of admission that might put his tuckus in terrible trouble. If Tessa were a tea kettle, the water inside would be at a fierce boil now. Her stomach had started doing flips, it seemed. How could her morning start any worse than this?!

"Excuse me." Someone brushed past Mao and dodged around Kurz. "Captain. I was called to your cabin. I… was… told… that…" The speaker's voiced dyed down, like sound sound on an old crank record player as the stored energy ran out. "You… … were… … in… … … danger…." It was Sousuke Sagara, of course, body all rigid, and numerous sweat drops forming at both temple areas.

'…" Tessa was fit to die. She truly was. Dressed in a blue wig… with grapefruits under her blouse… and with morning breath… in front of Sousuke. If she were a tea kettle, steam would be shouting forcefully out if her spout now. She burped, tasting the previous day's lunch in her mouth.

At first the Captain felt like a dear caught in the headlights of one of the trucks used to transport Arm Slaves. But then, the words to that obnoxious song blazed a path across he tortured mind: 'Every weekend I in the jail.' She stomped over to the intercom on her cabin wall. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to keep her temper, when the rubber band broke. Snapping free, it really stung her skin… and that rupture let the captives free. Two pieces of fruit rolled out of her night shirt… bounced once twice and three times on the floor, and then rolled to stop at Souske's boots.

"Uhhh." That was all that Sousuke could say.

"Remember Sousuke ole chum," Kurz said in fatherly fashion, a nasty twinkle in his eye. "Fruit is good for you."

"Idiot," Melissa groused.

"Hello, operator." Tessa didn't remember the telephone number for the desk that she was trying to reach. "This is Captain Testarossa. Could you please connect me to the MP desk." The personnel at the base's MP desk were responsible for receiving, coordinating and dispatching all emergency and non-emergency responders to an incidents in the Merida base area.

The Military Police on the island were all combat veterans or had worked in the roughest penitentiaries on the planet. They would fiercely enforce all laws, regulations, and policies, deterring crimes through their alert patrolling, the speed of their reaction, and military methods that made Judge Dredd look like a pussy.

"Now… wait…." Kurz suddenly didn't look like he found things funny anymore. "It was just a joke. I…" He bit his tongue. ""…I mean… the young lady didn't mean any harm. Right? Tessa?"

"Heh heh," Mao said, cigarette barely staying in her mouth.

Sousuke was still trying to piece together what was going on. He looked down at the fruit. Up at Tessa. And then at a blue wig-like object that the irate woman tossed across the room. Something else caught his attention. The projector was still on and the hologram remained in its full glory. "Uhhh…."

"Yes, I'll wait." Tessa was chewing on her fingernails now, agitated beyond belief. "By the way, what group is on duty today? I see. Former members of Rio de Janeiro's military and civil police." At the time, Polícia Militar do Estado do Rio de Janeiro had the reputation of being the most violent law enforcement group anywhere on the globe. Tessa closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Her belly was really putting up a fierce fight.

Sousuke stood a little taller. Even he was wary around the men and women of the Brazilian police groups.

"It'll be alright, Weber." Mao chuckled evilly. "I'll get you some Vaseline for the brig… in case your bunkmate takes a liking to your super model ass."

"Vaseline?" Tessa looked confused. "Why would Sergeant Weber need Vaseline?"

"So his new boyfriend in jail can grease up his [bleeeee-eeee-eee-ee-epin] [bleep] before [bleeee-eee-ee-epin] Weber up his boney [bleep]." Mao took a big pull on her cigarette and blew it out.

Tessa's eyes went wide. No need to imagine that! "O no…." It had been too much for her to stomach, so to speak. She wasn't a tea kettle. It wasn't steam coming up.

"Blrrrrr-pppppph-hhhhhh-hhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h."

The ailing Captain promptly blew chunks.

No. Not the dog.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that same morning.

(knock knock knock)

The rapid rapping on the door echoed like gunshots in Tessa's eras.

Yawning, she smoothed her uniform top and headed to see who was calling. She promptly froze when she opened the door.

It was Richard Mardukas, Commander of the Tuatha de Danann, and second in rank only to her.

"C-Commander," Tessa said, taken aback. First Sousuke. Now, Mardukas. Did someone at the tropical-themed party give her a Voodoo curse?

The Commanders is a dry, straight-laced, and conservative man. He is straightforward to the point of being blunt with anyone, even the Captain. But… despite this… beneath his cold exterior lies a personality that seems to be able to show caring for others.

"I trust you are feeling well this morning, Captain" The way the stern man said those even-keeled words made it sound like merely a pleasantry. He had reason to suspect that his superior officer felt anything but well.

"I have felt worse," Tessa blurted out. It was true. She had felt a great deal worse an hour ago. Seeing the man arch his eyebrow, she promptly added: "And I hope to be feeling much better soon."

"I have been told that things are in good order aboard de Danaan," Mardukas remarked. "We are well stocked. All systems are in peak operating capacity. And I suspect that our operating efficiency will improve after a restful shore leave."

"The boat is in very good shape," Tessa responded, relieved that the Commander was here to discuss preparations. "And in very good hands." She nodded to the man, a subtle compliment. One can win more flies with honey than with vinegar. Then again, even more are attracted to shit than honey or vinegar. She swallowed hard, not wanting to sound obsequious.

"Is it now?" Mardukas asked, making use of the opening. "We should make doubly sure of that. No, trebly…." The sea can go from serene to severe in the beat of a heart. The Commander could go from droll to dramatic even swifter. "About the… party… last evening." He was obviously no fan of affairs that were allowed to exceed the boundaries of strict military decorum. He paused, and eyed the younger woman in the way that a parent eyes a child standing next to a broken vase. "I….. have..… heard…. a….. great….. many….. things….." He bit his words off sharply in a metronomic manner.

"That-" Tessa felt her throat tightening. "It was merely-" She felt a cold spot in the pit of her stomach. She was at a great disadvantage. Anything the man might know trumped everything that she did not.

"A….. great….. many….. things….." Mardukas repeated, with a harsher emphasis on each word. The word 'many' sounded as if it had been capitalized.

"…" Tessa didn't know what to say. She remembered a lesson the Commander once taught her. It is better to keep ones mouth shut, than to put a foot in it.

Mardukas was once friends with Tessa's late father. After serving as vice-captain of the HMS Conqueror in the Falklands War, he was named captain of the HMS Turbulent. During that latter period he and Tessa's father first encountered one another in a submarine accident.

"Hmmm," Mardukas said. "I wonder what your father might say…." He let those words sink in like depth charges. "If… he… knew… exactly… what… I… know…." Each word exploded, sending figurative shock waves through his Captain. Off the bridge, the man occasionally acts as a mentor and confidant to Testarossa. He was acting like they were both on the bridge.

Tessa's stomach complained rather loudly. And then did so even louder.

"I see," Mardukas said. "Fools speak of 'Hair of the Dog'. People who don't really know anything speak of medicinal cures." He paused, thinking back to the rare times where he let the bottle get the better of him. "Tucking into a fry-up is the most pleasant way to cure a hangover."

"Fry up?" Tessa wasn't familiar with the British term.

"Right now, the thought of spooning in eggs, sausage and bacon might make you queasy," the Commander remarked. "But there is method in that madness."

"Method?" Tessa looked skeptical.

"Indeed…." The staunch man then asked: "You are not questioning my judgment, are you?" Hearing nothing, he continued. "Knowledgeable and notorious professors alike espouse that fatty foods help to 'grease' the stomach, stopping alcohol from being absorbed as quickly."

"I see," Tessa said. She promised that she would give it a try.

"Grand," the Commander said, almost smiling. "After a fine and nourishing repast…." He put a steely look on his craggy face. "We… will… have… a… formal… debriefing…." After that he took his leave.

Tessa's stomach grumbled yet again. "I agree," she said to the angry organ. There were rough sees ahead, so to speak. But she knew all too well, that actions bring consequences.

Her first meal of the day felt like the Last Supper

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End