DISCLAIMER: Mass Effect video game is the property of its respective owners and the author has no financial gain from it. Original Characters and story concept are mine though. I'd love to say that I own Confederacy as well, but they seem to kidnap and brainwash people who make such ridiculous claim.

A/N: Here is the Chapter 3 of Multiverse Effect. It is pushing strongly toward 6k words, but unfortunately there was nothing I could do about it.

EDIT: I will be going on holiday next Saturday and I won't be home until at least a week later - possibly two weeks. I will update the first part of the Chapter 3 today, but the second part will be slower in coming, so whoever reads it - please be patient.

As for the chapter itself - The SI is finally acclimatizing in the base. I know that so far it is fairly slow-paced, but I want to give poor Dubois some time to find his bearings. If you have any suggestions or feedback, do not hesitate to leave a review.

It is betaed by the one and the only Redentor

Chapter 3 – Meeting The Mafia

A sword never kills anybody; it is a tool in the killer's hand

Seneca

After meeting Major Sharpe I was left to my own devices for a time. I wandered around the compound learning its layout as such knowledge could come in handy in the future. By then, I've abandoned all thoughts of escaping the Security Branch and Confederacy. I still wasn't going to bend over and agree to everything they demanded, but I had to admit grudgingly that I literally had nowhere else to go. I was alone and in an unfamiliar place and so far learning what I could from the Security Branch could help me the most in the long run. So, I've been using my wrist-comp to read a little on the Camp Bravo Two curriculum and I admit I was very impressed with it.

I've always considered myself a pragmatist and I agreed with the motto of Special Forces back on Earth: 'if you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck'. When you are in a life and death situation giving your enemy a sporting chance is the worst possible decision and it seemed like Security Branch took similar approach. External Affairs Bureau agents didn't learn how to play fair, but to deliver results. Blackmail, extortion, bribes and even emotional manipulation were not only allowed but strongly encouraged. Agents were told to use all tools at their disposal to achieve their goals, even if such means were considered crude, incorrect or even criminal in a civilized society. It seems like Gillespie and Vassilevskiy were right when they described External Affairs Bureau as the ugly underbelly of the Security Branch. If there was ever a need for intervention by the Confederacy Armed Forces in a particular universe, External Affairs field agents were expected to have completely crippled enemy war effort by then in order to minimize friendly casualties. What made Security Branch agents different from Council Spectres in Mass Effect universe was the fact that they were held accountable for their decisions. Field agents were expected to report to their superiors and usage of more extreme measures (such as blackmailing an important politician or using physical force during interrogation) had to be agreed upon by the Security Branch ranking officers. Even with careful screenings of potential agents it wasn't foolproof in cases of misuse or abuse of power, but clearly steps have been taken to prevent the worst from happening. Such a system was far from perfect, but it was still much better than giving agents the freedom to roam around the multiverse with no supervision whatsoever like the Citadel Council did.

Sometime later, I found a message on my wrist-comp from Galtieri requesting that I meet him in the Duty Platoon locker room. When I arrived we wasted no time in putting on our armors (I still required his guidance, but it took me less time) and taking the weapons with us. We then swiftly jogged to the firing range, where Captain Galtieri wanted me to familiarize myself with provided firearms.

Weapons that were standard issue for Security Branch field agents consisted of a sidearm and a PDW for close quarters. There was also a carbine that could be easily converted into an assault rifle or Designated Marksman Rifle by switching the barrels, magazines and adding or removing the attachments. All weapons worked on the plasma-coil gun principle: they fired by using electromagnets to accelerate the projectiles, while heating them up at the same time. Projectiles were made from durable metals that could be heated to high temperatures without losing their consistency. These weapons were both very powerful and extremely dangerous due to high speeds and the temperatures that the projectiles could achieve. Data transfer made me aware that Confederacy dabbled with Mass Effect weaponry some time ago, but decided against issuing them to their soldiers. The tests concluded that high-caliber, superheated projectiles are much more devastating than the shaving beads that Mass Effect guns utilized. Mass Effect weapons were not bad per se but as they were mostly cannibalized or reverse-engineered from Prothean tech they had limits which could not be exceeded even with Confederacy's technological edge. These drawbacks outweighed their potential benefits, like virtually unlimited ammunition. Unlimited shaving beads will do you no good if your rifle can't even chip the paint off enemy's armor with them.

Galtieri presented me these firearms, showed me how to field-strip them and advised me about their quirks and problems that I might encounter. I received a quick data transfer through my wrist-comp to retain that knowledge and without further ceremony I was told to shoot at presented targets.

The practical part of the firearms training revealed severe limitations in data transfer technology. My brain held memories of Captain Galtieri's missions as well as information package on the weaponry, but my body was not used to it, as muscle memory still wasn't there. When I tried quickly switching between the targets the barrel was swimming left and right as my body tried to adjust. I actually overextended my hand when I tried switching between the carbine on a tactical sling and my pistol that was attached to my hip. Galtieri saw my struggle, but he explained patiently.

"This is the reason why we have three months for training. You can't learn everything through data transfer – some of the habits will come to you in time."

I could already see that it will be a long learning process, but I feared something else.

"What is going to happen when I transfer to my final body, sir? Will I have to re-learn it again?"

Captain Galtieri waved away my concerns.

"You will have an exact copy of your current body, minus all the drawbacks that we discover during the training period. Don't concern yourself with that, Dubois."

All in all it was a very productive couple of hours. I also discovered that despite his laid-back attitude in the morning Galtieri was a slave driver and he definitely reminded me of his serious self from yesterday. We constantly practice safety drills with weapons. I was expected to field-strip all of my firearms and put them back together quickly – Galtieri measured the time with his wrist-comp. No matter how hard I tried and how many shots I have taken he was always urging me to do better. It wasn't pleasant, but I could clearly see merit in his approach. I have also noticed a visible improvement in my performance after we finished our drills.

When we were done Galtieri ordered me to clean up the weaponry and take it back to the Duty Platoon lockers. There once again we had to put our weapons back in their respective locker rooms, while I also had to make sure that my plasteel crate remained closed and sealed off as per regulations. We also went to officer on duty's cubicle to fill in the forms. When we signed our equipment off, Galtieri forwarded me my lesson and exercise plan for the next week. I skimmed through it quickly and said.

"One question, sir?" After the Captain nodded at me in consent I continued. "When do I get to sleep, sir?"

Galtieri snorted at me derisively and said.

"Sleep is overrated, Dubois. Now, get out of here!"

I saluted crisply and left the Duty Platoon lockers.

After leaving Captain Galtieri I quickly went to my room to refresh. I spoke with Lox a little bit and he informed me that he will be my teacher for some of my classes, including cryptography, interrogation techniques and basics of the IT. To my quick relief Lox also said he won't be telling anyone that I figured out that I was going to be sent to Mass Effect 'verse before officially being informed about it. He also said one memorable thing.

"You are intelligent, for an organic being. But you still lack the experience that will make you truly wise."

It sounded so out of this world, especially due to the fact that it was said by an artificial intelligence of all things that I couldn't help but laugh.

"Gee, thanks Master Yoda. What other words of insight do you have to impart?"

"May the Force be with you, Officer Cadet Dubois."

The last sentence he delivered in a deadpan tone, but I could detect hints of amusement. It seemed like I will have to reevaluate my theory on AIs not having sense of humor. I left my room soon after and went back to the main building for a dinner as it turns out that Galtieri and I skipped lunch altogether.

This time around barely anyone paid attention to me and dinner itself seemed to be a more relaxed affair. As it turns out I was expected to sit at the officers table once again, but this time it was empty apart from the attractive blonde colonel from this morning. She waved at me and asked me to sit with her. Due to my faux-pas with her during breakfast I would have preferred to sit by myself, but refusing my superior would be nothing more than discourteous snub so I took a seat next to her.

She wasted no time and introduced herself to me.

"My name is Colonel Patricia van Koolwijk. I teach Tactical Infiltration Course as well as Munitions and Explosives Training."

We shook hands and I said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. My name is Officer Cadet Peter Dubois, ah-artificially created citizen." I stammered a little. It still felt weird to introduce myself like that. "After my training is finished I will be attached to 3rd Battalion, 213th Infiltration Brigade" I added, remembering Galtieri's data transfer. "I believe I will have a few classes with you, ma'am."

She nodded at that.

"You will indeed, Dubois. Unfortunately, due to time constraints I doubt you will become a proficient pioneer or military engineer. It's a shame really – I'd love to have you working under me."

Surely she didn't mean…? Yep, she meant exactly that – her mischievous smile said it all. It seemed like I wasn't completely off the hook for my staring at her during breakfast.

I quickly looked around to make sure that nobody was listening to our conversation and said quietly.

"I'd like to apologize, Colonel for my behavior this morning. It was completely inappropriate and I have no excuse, ma'am."

She smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, Dubois. It was quite refreshing, actually. All the people in the Bureau go out of their way to say 'you're a field agent first, woman second' while still staring at your ass when you're not looking. It was nice to see someone do it so openly."

"I would never stare at your backside, ma'am."

Her tone turned frosty and she eyed me coldly.

"Are you calling my backside unattractive, Officer Cadet?"

Any man can recognize that dangerous tone. This is the moment when you have to retract your previous statement very quickly.

"Not at all, ma'am." I answered, desperately trying to find something else to say. I stopped however when I noticed her mischievous smile again. It seemed like she enjoyed playing this teasing game with me. I wondered whether that's the way she spoke with all the other recruits. "And how would you know that if you've never looked Officer Cadet?"

To my immense relief, Colonel van Koolwijk decided to not to pursue that question and asked me with a serious expression, "This planet that you're coming from is Earth, but not like ours?" she checked her wrist-comp. "Right, it's also Earth, but it had developed differently."

I looked up from my meal surprised.

"Are you from Earth as well, ma'am?"

"Well, not me as I was born in the colonies. But all Multiverse Confederacy civilizations originally came from Earth. What would be the odds of humanity developing on a different planet?"

"Well if you put it that way, ma'am…" I remained unconvinced, but Colonel was still talking.

"Anyway, is it true that it's customary to slap a female on her backside to signal that she's done a good job, for example at the workplace? Does it also work the other way around with females slapping males?"

At first I thought she was joking. The question she asked was so ridiculous that I couldn't believe she was serious. But when I looked her in the eyes, all I saw that was polite curiosity. She honestly believed that we behaved like this?! I responded quickly, hoping to clarify the misunderstanding.

"No ma'am, you are mistaken. Such behavior, either from males or females, could be considered sexual harassment and it would be penalized by social ostracism. There are many different cultures on Earth, but in general we are expected to treat other people with respect."

She nodded at that and noted something down on her wrist-comp. She looked at me apologetically.

"I did not mean to offend you, Dubois but I'm simply curious. Usually primitive cultures, such as yours tend to be very overt in their displays of sexuality so I assumed that it would be the case. I don't know much about your Earth, I'm afraid."

Primitive cultures? Okay, we may not have super-special, multiverse-hopping stargates or dimension-bending starships, but we were not bloody cavemen either. We were the culture, who gave birth to great philosophers like Confucius or Aristotle, inventors like Tesla and entrepreneurs like Elon Musk. We had our industrial revolution and age of enlightenment and reason, so we certainly were NOT some backwards, primitive society. Of course, she couldn't have known that. To her we might as well be talking monkeys with baseball caps and assault rifles.

"No offence taken, Colonel. I understand that we might seem rather underdeveloped as we barely explored our own Solar system. Still, we are diverse, resourceful and inventive. We also discovered joys of science-fiction so as you can see I'm not too overwhelmed by your technology. In fact, I expected something more, well… ultra-modern. I am sort of disappointed that everything you have here is similar to my Earth, except bigger and better."

She smiled at that.

"Why fix something that is not broken, Cadet Dubois? Some things always stay the same. We are still working on new technologies and inventions, but now that we have consciousness transfer and multiverse hopping we can take our time with implementing new tech."

"Speaking of multiverse, can you explain something to me, ma'am?"

She gestured at me to go ahead.

"I am confused on how dimension travelling actually works. Could you, for example, go to a universe where your Multiverse Confederacy is like an evil empire? What would you do then?"

She pondered the idea for a moment and answered.

"There are certain rules to multiverse hopping. I'm not a physicist, but as far as I'm aware it is nearly impossible to travel to very similar universes, freak accidents aside. I remember from school something about the law of inverse energy conservation, but I might be completely wrong on that. When you talk to your Consciousness Transfer team again, you can ask them about it. Eggheads have better understanding on how the dimensional travel is conducted. We are spies – we only need to know how to infiltrate and bring down nations we meet on the other side of the wormhole." I smiled at that.

Van Koolwijk after a moment of silence added.

"Although fighting evil Confederacy would be quite a challenge. We are not lambs, especially here in Security Branch, and we know that sometimes gloves have to come off. But fighting a nation that would be equally powerful and much more ruthless? I hope it doesn't happen on my watch."

She shook her head and changed the topic.

"I can't believe how lucky you are, Dubois. Your first day in the mafia and it's Friday. You should join us in the officer's lounge for a drink or two."

"I'm not sure about it ma'am. I'm not an officer and besides I doubt that Captain Galtieri would let me skip training tomorrow."

She giggled at that. It seemed really strange to see this serious looking officer giggle, but then again it WAS Friday evening. Even most dedicated people need to unwind sometimes.

"Don't worry, Officer Cadet. Major Sharpe and Captain Galtieri are friends of mine. We served together back in the Confederate Army. Because I transferred to the Security Branch first I get to boss them around now." She smiled at me wickedly. "Besides, we want to train you to be one of us – it won't do if you have a nervous breakdown because you were overworked."

I remained unconvinced.

"Perhaps it would be better if I retire early, ma'am."

"Nonsense. Join us in the lounge, Dubois. That's an order." She added with mock-seriousness.

Seeing as the decision was out of my hands I conceded.

"Yes, ma'am. At once."

I was told by Colonel van Koolwijk that the officer's lounge was an elegant establishment away from the base itself and we were expected to wear our black dress uniforms. She also passed me a quick data package on proper conduct, for which I was immensely grateful, even if it still hurt like crazy. I didn't really know the traditions of the Security Branch or the Confederate Armed Forces. Would they be more egalitarian and inclusive like the Americans? Or perhaps elitist and aloof like the old British army? I prayed they would not turn out to be the Prussian army with their sabre duels, aristocratic traditions and all that junker jazz, since they already had the uniform part done to a boot. Thankfully, the savoir-vivre package would help me out in this and at least I won't mortally offend anyone with the wrong word said at the wrong time.

Back in the barracks I had a shower and a quick shave and then tried to put on my dress uniform. Gestapo style or not, dress blacks were sharp looking and my jackboots (or rather Dress Boots, Leather, High Type) were shining with shoe polish. It all looked very professional, but then again I had no idea how to wear it properly. Thankfully, helpful Lox actually came to my room in his android chassis to help me out.

Interestingly, his chassis kind of reminded me of Terminator T-800, albeit with more armor plates here and there. As it turned out, Lox was well acquainted with the Terminator films from Earth and he even did Arnold Schwarzenegger's impersonation at my request. Believe me: hearing 'Come with me if you want to live' with Brad Fiedel's Terminator Theme in the background from a real android not two feet away from you is just as cool as it sounds.

Lox helped me with putting on my outfit and instructed me in the little details that make a difference in the proper arrangement of the Dress Uniform. And not surprisingly, part of the officer's dress uniform was a black peaked cap, which did not help the Nazi look at all, but I guess I should have expected that. Soon after, Lox declared me ready to go, so I put on my dress headgear, activated my wrist-comp and set the Pathfinder app.

Outside of my barrack I met Colonel van Koolwijk and she led me to the launching pad. Her uniform was very similar to mine, except that females wore a black skirt and different headgear with their dress blacks. Their caps looked like rigid black berets with silver insignia and as for their uniform skirts… well – let's just say that if the Colonel's uniform was anything to go by, the hem of a military skirt raised that high would be considered very improper in any Earth military. She also wore high heels, which I was certain were not military issue with their fine embroideries. All in all, Colonel van Koolwijk looked positively stunning, but I've managed not to stare too much when I followed her.

There was one of the military shuttles on the landing pad and it was manned by Security Branch personnel. We entered the shuttle, strapped in and Colonel asked the pilot to take us to the city.

We took a scenic route on the way there and I finally had the chance to look at the planet we were on. On the way to the base yesterday, I was too overwhelmed to actually pay attention to where we were going and it turns out that it was a very beautiful world, if a bit empty-looking. When I mentioned the emptiness of the land, I was told by one of the pilots that infrastructure on this planet was mostly built in support of the Interactive Dislocation Department facilities, along with numerous military bases. Only our Camp Bravo Two belonged to Security Branch, while the rest fell under the jurisdiction of Confederate Armed Forces.

I noticed that Colonel van Koolwijk stiffened when she heard the pilot mention the military bases and asked him to stop talking, citing Official Secrets Act. It seemed like Confederacy had facilities here that they didn't want the general population (or at least me) to know about. I admit to being slightly curious, but I decided to ignore it. The truth is that learning some government secrets is not worth the trouble they bring down on your head and I didn't care about what Confederacy was doing one way or the other, unless it affected me directly.

When I was looking out of the window, seeing all the forests and grasslands below I was reminded of Poland and I felt another wave of longing. It felt like that fall a year ago, when my best friend died in a motorcycle accident – intellectually I was well aware that he was gone, but emotionally I still didn't feel the loss. It just seemed for a month or so that we just didn't have time to meet with our busy schedules, but as the days went by I understood that there will no 'catch you later' for us. Now this feeling was back as it just felt so unbelievable that I won't be seeing my family and my girlfriend ever again, that my brain still treated being here as some unannounced holiday.

But there was no going back, Dr. Anneke Koeckritz clearly said so. And because I was just a copy of my real self, there literally was no place for me to go back to. I guess I should just be happy with what I've got – after all I was going to embark on a life of adventure, become a trained operator, visit the Mass Effect universe and earn metric ton of money while doing so. I dreamed of all these things before. Then why did it feel so empty all of a sudden?

Colonel van Koolwijk noticed my change of mood and asked about it.

"It's alright ma'am. Just a little bit homesick. It happens to the best of us." I answered with a smile that didn't really reach my eyes. She didn't comment further.

The rest of the trip was spent in uncomfortable silence. Our pilot was still smarting from the Colonel's comment while his co-pilot was busy fixing navigation charts on his holo-tablet. I was still reminiscing about my life back on Earth and van Koolwijk put on a headset and was listening to some music.

After half an hour or so, we reached the city. It was called Port Helix and was considered a small city – after all it had a population of only about 3 million inhabitants. That was a small city by Confederacy standards, but I felt like a fish out of water there. I've been living in a large city my whole life, but when we landed in Port Helix I felt like a stereotypical country boy. Turns out, it was the same city that I saw from the terrace back in IDD compound and up close it looked even more intimidating. It was filled with gravity-defying skyscrapers and massive arcologies. It was surprisingly clean as well and I could see lot of green patches in form of parks and hanging gardens. Before I could take a closer look though, the pilot swiftly took down the shuttle into one of the designated landing pads. As soon as we landed, the hangar ceiling closed above us – Security Branch seemed rather paranoid when it came to security measures, but they were spies after all. From the landing pad we took a short walk to a small military facility that housed among other things the Officer's Lounge.

I admit I wasn't so sure what to expect when I entered the lounge, but I certainly did not expect that. It had none of the minimalistic and futuristic design that was prevalent back in the base. The lounge was elegant, and opulent, but it had certain old school vibe with wooden floors, rich carpets and paneling on the walls. Most of the furniture consisted of small wooden coffee tables with large and comfortable leather armchairs. At the far end I noticed a bar with draft beer taps and a battery of liquor bottles. Behind the bar there were two real, living bartenders, a man and a woman, in elegant white shirts with bowties and black vests. Woman was filling the glass mugs with the beer from the tap, while the man was making a cocktail. Both of them moved with swiftness and self-assurance of experienced bar staff. When I looked at them, the male bartender threw three bottles in the air, caught each of them independently between his fingers and poured from each bottle a shot of liquor. I knew a few bartenders in my life and I was pretty sure that what he just did was physically impossible.

Colonel van Koolwijk looked at my awed expression with a smile and said.

"So Dubois, how do you find our Lounge, so far?"

I looked at her with grateful eyes.

"I'm glad you convinced me to come, ma'am. I think I will like it a lot."

She patted my arm and said.

"When we are off-duty, please call me Patricia. When you call me ma'am in a place like this it makes me feel old." She said, while looking around the room, searching for her acquaintances.

"Then I must insist that you call me Peter. And calling you ma'am was a sign of respect. No man in his right mind would think of you as old, Patricia."

She laughed at that and shook her head.

"Aren't you a charmer, Peter? It is a pity that you don't work under me. Perhaps when your assignment is over we could work something out?" She said with a wink as she licked her lips.

I should have known that I won't be winning any verbal spars against this woman. But I was more concerned at her rather overt flirting. It wouldn't be a problem if we were civilians, but we were in the military. There is a very good reason why armies have non-fraternization policies in place. In fact, that is what always bugged me in Normandy during Mass Effect 1. Shepard is still a highly trained and decorated career officer in Systems Alliance Navy and military regulations still apply. All that said, he or she has no qualms into turning Normandy into a love boat by shamelessly flirting with either the XO (if female), the Gunnery Chief (if male) or the stray Asari scientist picked up on the way (if both). In Mass Effect 2 and 3 it's not so jarring, as in former the Normandy belongs to a terrorist group and in latter the Galaxy has bigger problems than Shepard taking crewmembers for a horizontal tango.

All pairings in Mass Effect series notwithstanding, sexual relationship between a superior officer and his or her subordinate is improper because 1) it might bring forward accusations of favoritism and 2) it might impact negatively on the unit cohesion in combat. Looking from this perspective, van Koolwijk's behavior was even stranger, seeing as we were both in uniform.

Unfortunately, Colonel van Koolwijk (or should I say – Patricia?) gave me no time to ponder as she hooked her arm with mine and led me through the lounge toward one of the coffee tables. I noticed two other female officers sitting there nursing their cocktails. I thought I recognized them from the breakfast in the morning, but I couldn't be sure. When we approached the table both of them smiled at Patricia and greeted her warmly. She let go of my arm and introduced both women to me.

"Peter, may I introduce you to Captain Catherine Miles." A short and slim redhead smiled at me with a slight wave. She looked to be slightly younger than Patricia. "And Captain Lucy Shi-Lee." A tall and attractive Asian woman gave me a firm nod and a not-so-obvious once-over. "Peter is our newest addition to the firm." She added with a smile and continued with the introduction.

"Lucy and I served together as an infiltration team during one of our assignments. I met Catherine when I started teaching the Explosives Course in the 5th Security Branch Academy. All of us were transferred few months ago to Camp Bravo Two to help with the formation of the newly established 213th Infiltration Brigade. Lucy is helping me with the Infiltration Courses for new recruits. Catherine, what is it exactly that you do?"

The redhead Captain Miles added with a pleasant smile, "I am establishing a Signals and Counter-Intelligence company that will be attached to our brigade." She tilted her head inquisitively and asked. "And who are you?"

I clicked my heels and stood at attention.

"Officer Cadet Peter Dubois, 3rd Battalion, 213th Infiltration Brigade, ma'am. I am also an artificially created citizen, originally hailing from a less advanced planet Earth."

'Well, my introduction is starting to sound like a mouthful and a half' I thought sarcastically. Since when was a simple 'Hi, I'm Peter' not good enough for an introduction? Oh yeah – since my brain was copy-pasted into a newer and better body by an over-bureaucratized, universe hopping, America-on-steroids IN SPACE. How could I ever forget?

Oblivious to my internal monologue, both women acknowledged my introduction with nods. I took a look at their uniforms and it appears that short skirts were a rule rather than an exception.

Captain Shi-Lee's eyes brightened at my introduction.

"Oh yes, I remember you now. You serve under Sharpe and Galtieri, don't you? I heard you came from this primitive Earth where you slap people on their bottoms as a sign of appreciation?" If I had to guess, her accent sounded slightly British.

Seriously, where was this retarded idea coming from and who the hell was spreading it around? Again, it was up to me to debunk the myth, so I said firmly while sitting down.

"Yes ma'am. Unfortunately I have to correct you on your last statement. We most certainly do not slap anyone to appreciate their work. In fact, we don't slap anyone for any reason, period."

I sat at the coffee table and used my wrist-comp to place an order. I opted for some low-alcoholic cocktail since getting drunk on beer or whisky wouldn't do in present company. Colonel van Koolwijk and Captain Miles were already engaged in conversation on some obscure technical topic, while Captain Shi-Lee said with a smile, "I apologize. It was just this rumor going around the base about you. In retrospect seems rather unlikely."

"No apologies needed, ma'am. I am well aware that I am somewhat of a mystery."

"Please call me Lucy, Peter." she gestured around the room "We are all off-duty here."

"Well, Lucy….you wouldn't happen to know who this rumor originated from, would you?"

She just laughed and reclined in the armchair.

I followed her example and relaxed. We discussed few mundane topics. I still felt that a gentlemanly thing to do would be to keep the ladies amused (an outdated notion, I know), so I kept the conversation afloat, while taking some time to observe. I slowly sipped my drink to remain sober and refused any stronger shots that the female officers proposed. I still didn't trust them – their slightly flirtatious behavior was confusing the hell out of me seeing as all of them were my superiors. I was wondering whether they were trying to lure me into the false feeling of security and it was just another test for me. On the other hand, perhaps I was just overanalyzing everything, while they genuinely wanted to unwind on Friday night. Either way, I refused to get drunk and carried on with the small talk, ignoring some rather overt pick-up lines from the women surrounding me. Don't get me wrong – I would love nothing more than just to flirt with them right back, give as good as I received. But until I was certain of my standing in the Security Branch that simply wasn't going to happen. I knew a thing or two about history. For example, Prussian army recruiters in the 18th century were fond of bringing young men to taverns and pubs, getting them drunk and having them sign the enlistment papers when they were barely lucid. British recruiters did it as well, if I remembered my history correctly.

'Of course, in my case Security Branch didn't have to bother with such underhanded tactics since I enlisted of my own volition' I thought sarcastically.

A/N: First part of chapter 3 is done. Dubois is taking time to unwind a little from all the crap he'd been through so far. And what would be better for relaxation than Mankind's favourite crutch - the alcohol.

Have a good one!

RosoMC