Here's chapter two to my story. Yes, none of these characters belong to me cept those that aren't mentioned in the actual series. k? plus, i know they don't sound right sometimes. r&r!
CHAPTER TWO
"You okay, Garibaldi?" Captain John Sheridan asked, putting dwon the report and looking at his security chief into the eye. Behind Garibaldi was Doctor Stephen Franklin and Commander Ivanova, standing and waiting, whose eyes were headed straight to Garibaldi with concern.
"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, managing a grin. "I was watching a dispute between Marcus and this IPX guy with him, They were... pretty loud, I might say." He winced at his headache as Franklin went in search for some medicine to calm the headaches down.
"Mr. Eilerson?" Ivanova pressumed, before satisfying herself with a smug grin. "I knew something was going to happen between those two." She caught Sheridan's raised eyebrows and straightened up for she was still on duty. "Mr. Eilerson is a liasion from IPX to sell some artifacts over to the Hak'Vir. Our friend Mr. Cole was suppose to show him to the conference room."
"Hell, it was bound to happen," Sheridan sighed. "Marcus meeting someone with the same metalobism as he does...it can get pretty dangerous if those two stick together. God knows, maybe they'll still be strangling each other out the airlock."
"Hmph, I suggested that to the two of them," Garibaldi said weakly. "The two went at it again, wanting to shove each other out the airlock. Marcus claims Mr. Eilerson has an ego the size of the entire galaxy while he shoots back to Marcus that he is the most miserable man alive." He laughed to himself. "I wanted to call you two down to show you myself... if I didn't get this damned headache."
"If you did, we'd most likely be in the same position as you are in at the moment," Franklin told him. "Although it would be funny to see them try to bite each other's heads off arguing." He chuckled to himself, handing a small pill and a glass of water. "Take this and drink this."
"Doc, I know how to use these."
Sheridan frowned. "Do you know where they are?"
"Red fourteen," he replied. "If you could let the station be silent, you can hear their voices echoing throughout the station." He chuckled again, shaking is head before taking the medicine Franklin had handed to him.
"Have something in mind, sir?" Ivanova asked him.
"Computer, show suvellience camera of Red-14," he ordered before turning back to his executive officer. "I want to make sure those two aren't killing each other...just yet." Ivanova considered it as they looked at the screen on the mirror. There was Max and Marcus, arguing away in the middle of the corridor.
"Damn you, may the profit you earn flow out of your nose!" Marcus yelled. Max was taken aback, physically recoiling, but that didn't wear him down. "May the staff you carry be shoved up your rear!" he snapped back angrily. Oh, this was funny. Hilarious.
Sheridan started laughing. He could understand why Garibaldi wanted them to come down. Franklin watched with amused eyes while the chief of security was watching, and then chuckling. Only Ivanova remained frozen at the screen. She turned to Captain Sheridan. "Permission to leave."
"Granted," he replied. "Susan, don't you want to see this?"
"Of course," she replied. "Of course I would want to see Marcus try to bite off someone's head off who has the exact same characteristics as him. But someone's got to explain why the IPX representative never came." She nodded shortly and then spun on her heel and left them to watch the big show. Garibaldi shook his head. "I don't get it," he told them. "She seemed unamused about it."
"Maybe because the man has a huge crush on her?" Franklin asked.
"I wonder whether they can stay like this this long," Sheridan wondered out loud. "I mean, they're bound to fall and call truce at sometime, right?"
It was already eleven at night and the two were still at it. Sheridan yawned as he rolled his sore muscles back and lay back on his chair, his eyes trying hard to remain open. But exhaustion and pain was rolling throughout his body like a hurricane. Garibaldi was slouching down on his desk, drowsy and his eyes almost entirely shut. Franklin was leaning by the wall, blessfully asleep.
"Oh, my God," Sheridan yawned. "They're...still...at it."
Garibaldi shook his head dreaily. "All I can hear...is my brain... pounding...and, and...aching. My ears are...aching like...hell..." He slouched down again, this time snoring on his way as he fell fast asleep on the captain's desk.
"At least I'm not a greedy, self-serving bastard who knows nothing about the real world!" Marcus was shouting to the IPX member. "Damn you if you know nothing but profit ad your damned-forsaken ego!" Max glared at him. "Well at least I don't look like my great grandfather back from the dead!" he accused at the ranger.
Now that made Marcus get even more angrier.
Now Captain Sheridan was extremely exhausted. "Computer, time," he ordered tiresomely. The computer replied dutifully, "The time is 2357 hundred hours." He rolled his eyes. This was insane. "Okay, you two," Sheridan yawned. "Out. Go to your quarters and get some...sleep."
"Aye, sir," Garibaldi nodded, staggering to his feet and walking to the door, where Franklin was leaning onto. He tugged on his shirt. "C'mon, Stephen," he coaxed in a dreamy voice, "time to go to our quarters." He began to drag him away towards the main corridors.
"Sleep?" Franklin asked dryly, half awake.
"Yeah, on my planet, that's what its called," Garibaldi told him.
"On my planet too," the doctor agreed.
Garibaldi frowned. "That's where we both come from, you doofus."
Once they were gone, Sheridan allowed himself to pulled off his top uniform, leaving only his white-collared shirt. The blue uniform was cutting him off from air supply and was leaving his muscles rusty. He leaned back on the chair, allowing his head to clear. Unfortunately, he could still hear Marcus and Max arguing non-stop.
"On God's name, I am going to personally ask Captain Sheridan to put you on the brig!" Marcus snapped viciously. Sheridan's ears pricked at the mention of his name. Yeah, what about both of you in the same brig, hmm? he asked himself. Or, better yet, outside the airlock, the two of you. Naw, Ivanova always wanted to boot Marcus out of the station herself. Very well.
"Oh yeah? Rather you than me," Max evened it up. "I am going to complain straight to IPX of your nuicience." "How the hell did they let you into that business in the first place?!" Marcus wanted to know. "Hell, I can't even stand you for a minute's worth!"
True, for the both of them. "Computer, turn off screen."
The silence welcomed him. Oh, he wanted to go to his quarters right now and have a bath and some water before slipping into bed. But, his muscles went rigid as they were tough as stone. Damn, it appears I won't be going anywhere tonight, he told himself. At least the silence was conforting as he drifted off to sleep.
An hour later, Marcus and Max were still at it, but wearing down. Both were beginning to slouch and stagger, their eyes blurred and both of their throats were now dry from all the yelling at each other. Finally, they were on the floor facing each other from seperate walls, crouching down wearily. No one else was around. No sound. Only their deep breaths.
"I give up," Max moaned. "You are the first person I have ever met that took me about the entire afternoon yelling at each other. Unfortunately, I missed that blasted meeting. Now I guess I'm going to have to lose those extra credits that I was aiiming for so long ever since I got that damned cargo."
Marcus frowned at the IPX member. "Is that all you think about?" he demanded. "Money? Your career? Your damned ego?" This was unbelieveable; here they were, past the middle of the night and still up and chattering about his job. My gosh, was that all he talked about? "You already spent thriteen hours straight yelling and that's the first thing uou worry about?"
His counterpart gave a bitter laugh. "Hell, it wasn't all I cared about," he told him wearily, clearing his throat. "The only three things I have ever loved was my job, my cat, and my wife." He sighed audibly as Marcus wondered who on earth would love someone who was so full of himself. Ah, life and its surprises. "Then, she left," he continued, "with my cat, and now I'm left with my job."
Marcus considered it. It was pretty awful for someone to go through with that for life. "I lost a brother and I have no loved ones waiting for me," he offered weakly. After a moment's of silence, he gathered himself to his feet. "Come, I'll buy you a drink. You need it."
"But the bars are closed," Max protested.
Marcus did not listen as he grabbed him to his feet. "On the Zocalo, they are," he clarified, giving in a sheepish grin. "But not Down Below."
They started to troop down the empty corridors and before long, they arrived. Exotic smells, sounds and sights, everything was like a 20th century Earth bar. Different exotic and rather-drunkening wines and beers and ales to the stenches no one would like to know. This was what goes on underground.
He settled on the bar with Max beside him. "Bartender, the usual," Marcus barked, and when he took the peer of Max, he added, "Make it two."
The bartender grunted and went to work, pouring some seemy yellowish-brown mixture into two cups and passing it to them. Marcus handed one two Max and raised the glass of ale. "To all our problems," he said. "That they may all go away someday."
"Hear to that!" Max replied, both gorging down on the drinks.
The bartender grinned at the two. "Enjoy," he told them and returned back to work behind the counter.
Cmdr. Ivanova glanced around, her soft hair joining with her. The cargo was already being maintained by a pack of security officers. If she knew better, the gang could just strike at any time; no careful presision, no fundamentals, no checks. Going straight to the kill in no time.
She was in civilian uniform, with only that golden-silver strip pin showing that she was in command. Her gun was in check and all she was waiting for was the target. This shouldn't be a problem, knowing that Marcus might be either getting himself drunk right now or was still at it with Max. She bit back a grin; she was terribly feeling guilty for leaving him like that. She planned to go to the bar later to pick him up and drag him home.
Hussle in the wind.
Ivanova stopped and ducked for cover, her weapon raised. There was someone around. She signalled the nearby security officer, who signalled the rest. Time for some action. She waited quietly, with only steps of the security officers running off, leaving the cargo vunerable.
Faces; about five of them, smirking at the sight. She listened carefully at their drunken voices. "Pathetic," one spat. "Running off and leaving the cargo vunerable. If I were in Earthforce, I would never leave anything out in the open like that. But, the favours on us, I suppose."
Not for long, Ivanova thought, a grin quirking.
"What the hell is in it?" another asked. Snap, click. "Shut up and do as you are told," the first one snapped. "Now get the ropes ready and let's tow this cargo off before the Earthforcers return. Oh, the look on their faces will be worth the ride."
And so will yours, Ivanova added silently.
On a spilt second, all the security officers bolted up, along with her, their guns trained on their cargo looters. The gangsters were indeed shocked as they dropped all their materials from their nimble hands. it clunked on the floor with a resounding clunk.
"Step away from the cargo, right now!" Ivanova ordered, waving her gun as two security officers clicked the restraints on their wrists. The first one, a big ugly dope looking guy, snarled at the commander. "How the hell did yu find out!?" he demanded.
"Presision, accuracy, perhaps a little poking around and doing some business down below and there you have it," she clipped at the big oaf, a satesfaction washing over. "Take them away. Minou, Hudson, Leick, Carsonn stay behind and guard the cargo in case some more of their little friends decides to drop by."
"Aye sir," they replied. Leick approached her. "And you, sir?"
She gave the young officer a half grin. "I have to pick up a friend of mine before he gets too drunk," she told him. "You have your orders. Proceed." She then marched out of the cargo bays, feeling strangely satesfied with herself. Oh, the look on their faces were good. And Marcus' too when he finds out the he owed her.
She smiled at the idea.
CHAPTER TWO
"You okay, Garibaldi?" Captain John Sheridan asked, putting dwon the report and looking at his security chief into the eye. Behind Garibaldi was Doctor Stephen Franklin and Commander Ivanova, standing and waiting, whose eyes were headed straight to Garibaldi with concern.
"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, managing a grin. "I was watching a dispute between Marcus and this IPX guy with him, They were... pretty loud, I might say." He winced at his headache as Franklin went in search for some medicine to calm the headaches down.
"Mr. Eilerson?" Ivanova pressumed, before satisfying herself with a smug grin. "I knew something was going to happen between those two." She caught Sheridan's raised eyebrows and straightened up for she was still on duty. "Mr. Eilerson is a liasion from IPX to sell some artifacts over to the Hak'Vir. Our friend Mr. Cole was suppose to show him to the conference room."
"Hell, it was bound to happen," Sheridan sighed. "Marcus meeting someone with the same metalobism as he does...it can get pretty dangerous if those two stick together. God knows, maybe they'll still be strangling each other out the airlock."
"Hmph, I suggested that to the two of them," Garibaldi said weakly. "The two went at it again, wanting to shove each other out the airlock. Marcus claims Mr. Eilerson has an ego the size of the entire galaxy while he shoots back to Marcus that he is the most miserable man alive." He laughed to himself. "I wanted to call you two down to show you myself... if I didn't get this damned headache."
"If you did, we'd most likely be in the same position as you are in at the moment," Franklin told him. "Although it would be funny to see them try to bite each other's heads off arguing." He chuckled to himself, handing a small pill and a glass of water. "Take this and drink this."
"Doc, I know how to use these."
Sheridan frowned. "Do you know where they are?"
"Red fourteen," he replied. "If you could let the station be silent, you can hear their voices echoing throughout the station." He chuckled again, shaking is head before taking the medicine Franklin had handed to him.
"Have something in mind, sir?" Ivanova asked him.
"Computer, show suvellience camera of Red-14," he ordered before turning back to his executive officer. "I want to make sure those two aren't killing each other...just yet." Ivanova considered it as they looked at the screen on the mirror. There was Max and Marcus, arguing away in the middle of the corridor.
"Damn you, may the profit you earn flow out of your nose!" Marcus yelled. Max was taken aback, physically recoiling, but that didn't wear him down. "May the staff you carry be shoved up your rear!" he snapped back angrily. Oh, this was funny. Hilarious.
Sheridan started laughing. He could understand why Garibaldi wanted them to come down. Franklin watched with amused eyes while the chief of security was watching, and then chuckling. Only Ivanova remained frozen at the screen. She turned to Captain Sheridan. "Permission to leave."
"Granted," he replied. "Susan, don't you want to see this?"
"Of course," she replied. "Of course I would want to see Marcus try to bite off someone's head off who has the exact same characteristics as him. But someone's got to explain why the IPX representative never came." She nodded shortly and then spun on her heel and left them to watch the big show. Garibaldi shook his head. "I don't get it," he told them. "She seemed unamused about it."
"Maybe because the man has a huge crush on her?" Franklin asked.
"I wonder whether they can stay like this this long," Sheridan wondered out loud. "I mean, they're bound to fall and call truce at sometime, right?"
It was already eleven at night and the two were still at it. Sheridan yawned as he rolled his sore muscles back and lay back on his chair, his eyes trying hard to remain open. But exhaustion and pain was rolling throughout his body like a hurricane. Garibaldi was slouching down on his desk, drowsy and his eyes almost entirely shut. Franklin was leaning by the wall, blessfully asleep.
"Oh, my God," Sheridan yawned. "They're...still...at it."
Garibaldi shook his head dreaily. "All I can hear...is my brain... pounding...and, and...aching. My ears are...aching like...hell..." He slouched down again, this time snoring on his way as he fell fast asleep on the captain's desk.
"At least I'm not a greedy, self-serving bastard who knows nothing about the real world!" Marcus was shouting to the IPX member. "Damn you if you know nothing but profit ad your damned-forsaken ego!" Max glared at him. "Well at least I don't look like my great grandfather back from the dead!" he accused at the ranger.
Now that made Marcus get even more angrier.
Now Captain Sheridan was extremely exhausted. "Computer, time," he ordered tiresomely. The computer replied dutifully, "The time is 2357 hundred hours." He rolled his eyes. This was insane. "Okay, you two," Sheridan yawned. "Out. Go to your quarters and get some...sleep."
"Aye, sir," Garibaldi nodded, staggering to his feet and walking to the door, where Franklin was leaning onto. He tugged on his shirt. "C'mon, Stephen," he coaxed in a dreamy voice, "time to go to our quarters." He began to drag him away towards the main corridors.
"Sleep?" Franklin asked dryly, half awake.
"Yeah, on my planet, that's what its called," Garibaldi told him.
"On my planet too," the doctor agreed.
Garibaldi frowned. "That's where we both come from, you doofus."
Once they were gone, Sheridan allowed himself to pulled off his top uniform, leaving only his white-collared shirt. The blue uniform was cutting him off from air supply and was leaving his muscles rusty. He leaned back on the chair, allowing his head to clear. Unfortunately, he could still hear Marcus and Max arguing non-stop.
"On God's name, I am going to personally ask Captain Sheridan to put you on the brig!" Marcus snapped viciously. Sheridan's ears pricked at the mention of his name. Yeah, what about both of you in the same brig, hmm? he asked himself. Or, better yet, outside the airlock, the two of you. Naw, Ivanova always wanted to boot Marcus out of the station herself. Very well.
"Oh yeah? Rather you than me," Max evened it up. "I am going to complain straight to IPX of your nuicience." "How the hell did they let you into that business in the first place?!" Marcus wanted to know. "Hell, I can't even stand you for a minute's worth!"
True, for the both of them. "Computer, turn off screen."
The silence welcomed him. Oh, he wanted to go to his quarters right now and have a bath and some water before slipping into bed. But, his muscles went rigid as they were tough as stone. Damn, it appears I won't be going anywhere tonight, he told himself. At least the silence was conforting as he drifted off to sleep.
An hour later, Marcus and Max were still at it, but wearing down. Both were beginning to slouch and stagger, their eyes blurred and both of their throats were now dry from all the yelling at each other. Finally, they were on the floor facing each other from seperate walls, crouching down wearily. No one else was around. No sound. Only their deep breaths.
"I give up," Max moaned. "You are the first person I have ever met that took me about the entire afternoon yelling at each other. Unfortunately, I missed that blasted meeting. Now I guess I'm going to have to lose those extra credits that I was aiiming for so long ever since I got that damned cargo."
Marcus frowned at the IPX member. "Is that all you think about?" he demanded. "Money? Your career? Your damned ego?" This was unbelieveable; here they were, past the middle of the night and still up and chattering about his job. My gosh, was that all he talked about? "You already spent thriteen hours straight yelling and that's the first thing uou worry about?"
His counterpart gave a bitter laugh. "Hell, it wasn't all I cared about," he told him wearily, clearing his throat. "The only three things I have ever loved was my job, my cat, and my wife." He sighed audibly as Marcus wondered who on earth would love someone who was so full of himself. Ah, life and its surprises. "Then, she left," he continued, "with my cat, and now I'm left with my job."
Marcus considered it. It was pretty awful for someone to go through with that for life. "I lost a brother and I have no loved ones waiting for me," he offered weakly. After a moment's of silence, he gathered himself to his feet. "Come, I'll buy you a drink. You need it."
"But the bars are closed," Max protested.
Marcus did not listen as he grabbed him to his feet. "On the Zocalo, they are," he clarified, giving in a sheepish grin. "But not Down Below."
They started to troop down the empty corridors and before long, they arrived. Exotic smells, sounds and sights, everything was like a 20th century Earth bar. Different exotic and rather-drunkening wines and beers and ales to the stenches no one would like to know. This was what goes on underground.
He settled on the bar with Max beside him. "Bartender, the usual," Marcus barked, and when he took the peer of Max, he added, "Make it two."
The bartender grunted and went to work, pouring some seemy yellowish-brown mixture into two cups and passing it to them. Marcus handed one two Max and raised the glass of ale. "To all our problems," he said. "That they may all go away someday."
"Hear to that!" Max replied, both gorging down on the drinks.
The bartender grinned at the two. "Enjoy," he told them and returned back to work behind the counter.
Cmdr. Ivanova glanced around, her soft hair joining with her. The cargo was already being maintained by a pack of security officers. If she knew better, the gang could just strike at any time; no careful presision, no fundamentals, no checks. Going straight to the kill in no time.
She was in civilian uniform, with only that golden-silver strip pin showing that she was in command. Her gun was in check and all she was waiting for was the target. This shouldn't be a problem, knowing that Marcus might be either getting himself drunk right now or was still at it with Max. She bit back a grin; she was terribly feeling guilty for leaving him like that. She planned to go to the bar later to pick him up and drag him home.
Hussle in the wind.
Ivanova stopped and ducked for cover, her weapon raised. There was someone around. She signalled the nearby security officer, who signalled the rest. Time for some action. She waited quietly, with only steps of the security officers running off, leaving the cargo vunerable.
Faces; about five of them, smirking at the sight. She listened carefully at their drunken voices. "Pathetic," one spat. "Running off and leaving the cargo vunerable. If I were in Earthforce, I would never leave anything out in the open like that. But, the favours on us, I suppose."
Not for long, Ivanova thought, a grin quirking.
"What the hell is in it?" another asked. Snap, click. "Shut up and do as you are told," the first one snapped. "Now get the ropes ready and let's tow this cargo off before the Earthforcers return. Oh, the look on their faces will be worth the ride."
And so will yours, Ivanova added silently.
On a spilt second, all the security officers bolted up, along with her, their guns trained on their cargo looters. The gangsters were indeed shocked as they dropped all their materials from their nimble hands. it clunked on the floor with a resounding clunk.
"Step away from the cargo, right now!" Ivanova ordered, waving her gun as two security officers clicked the restraints on their wrists. The first one, a big ugly dope looking guy, snarled at the commander. "How the hell did yu find out!?" he demanded.
"Presision, accuracy, perhaps a little poking around and doing some business down below and there you have it," she clipped at the big oaf, a satesfaction washing over. "Take them away. Minou, Hudson, Leick, Carsonn stay behind and guard the cargo in case some more of their little friends decides to drop by."
"Aye sir," they replied. Leick approached her. "And you, sir?"
She gave the young officer a half grin. "I have to pick up a friend of mine before he gets too drunk," she told him. "You have your orders. Proceed." She then marched out of the cargo bays, feeling strangely satesfied with herself. Oh, the look on their faces were good. And Marcus' too when he finds out the he owed her.
She smiled at the idea.