So mates, new chapter as promise. IF anything this is more of little side chapter then main chapter, but hey it's entertaining so why not. I split this from the last chapter since it didn't connect.
Reviews...?
I'll answer them next time.
Anyone have any good star wars fanfics I can read?
Aboard Citadel Station
UNSC Infinity maintaining Lords 50 Geosynchronous orbit
2557 Military Calender, 17:45
You know, there were only really two types of group of marines Dubbo knew. There were the ones that take pictures and hunt around for souvenirs and strange new food, like any normal tourist. And then there were the ones that headed down to the nearest bar to try and get laid ASAP.
Dubbo would say the mix in any marine unit is about half in half.
Most souvenirs bought so far weren't too bad. Model ships, shirts, postcards, a mug here and there. Dubbo heard from the Underground though that some bloody twat bought a space hamster.
Jaysus.
Well anyways, it was Dubbo's turn to be the Officer on Deck.
So far though, things were running relatively smooth. Cammies were authorized for marines on libo and nothing else. Easy to identify for Army MPs and duty NCOs and officers so Marines couldn't hide in the crowd. So far, things were ok.
"As we can see here, UNSC representatives are making their way towards the Citadel Chambers to begin first diplomatic meetings between the United Nations Space Command and the Citadel." A news commentator said on a screen located in the main Presidium shopping mall. A few alien civies were gathered around it, getting a look as UNSC diplomats guarded by UNSC marines and Citadel Security police officers made their way through a place called the Citadel embassies.
Lieutenant Lucciano was the OOD Dubbo was supposed to replaced. Dubbo had to take the elevator up to find him. It was a slow and painful process, awkwardly sharing it with some short, round alien with a gas mask that almost reminded Dubbo of a grunt. Through heavy, audible breathing he asked Dubbo if they were really here to help.
"If it were up to me, mate, I'd go out and kick ass," Dubbo honestly answered.
The elevator stopped and Dubbo got out. The place was a large shady balcony area overlooking the silver shopping centers and river far below. There were flying cars parked near a entrance on the other side of the balcony with the word Purgatory written above in neon light blue LED lights.
And Dubbo felt the vibrations of electronic music as it was blasted inside the club. Muffled sounds. Rhythmic beats. Faded lights.
Lieutenant Lucciano was waiting for him near the elevator, looking out at the Presidium down below.
"Ey mate," Dubbo said. "All good?"
"Nothings exploded yets, so all good. Most of 'ah guys ended up in theres. Figures." Lucciano said.
Dubbo only shrugged. Usual shit. Lucciano handed him the duty pistol and holster and went on his way down the elevator. Probably for a drink away from the noise. Dubbo strapped it on.
Dubbo headed over to the club. He saw two marine lance corporals outside the entrance, talking to what looked like a couple of those Asari.
Chriost sake, mate.
They stopped talking for a moment, said 'rah, sir' to Dubbo as he went by, then continued to talk to the Asari. They were dressed in these long gown dresses with their sides from the hip up completely cut out.
Dubbo remembered seeing this club in the information packets they got aboard the Infinity. He entered the hallway filled with what he knew from that same info packet were Alliance marines and sailors dressed in these weird jersey uniforms with black overlays and trousers. A few were on the floor, absolutely wasted. One was tended by a waiter in...oh, mate, that's...that's one of the skimpiest uniforms Dubbo had ever seen.
Red, skin tight lingerie with red thigh high heels. The back and sides were cut out, and the front exposed a lot of cleavage.
Jaysus, why couldn't they have it like this back home?
Dubbo entered the actual club and the music nearly deafened him. Light white-blue and dark pink and purple colors flowed across the bodies of the crowds and the walls of the massive spire auditorium. A spire within a spire. He was on a platform, and up ahead built in the center spire looked like the multi-level dance floor and main bar. Off to the side was a smaller, more quiet (very relative) area with a few lounges, a smaller bar and dance floor.
And everywhere were people. Alien and human civilians. Alliance marines and sailors off duty. Alien military off duty. And UNSC marines and sailors.
Chriost, mate. The whole lot.
Dubbo wasn't really sure what to do. Duty NCOs would be here. They'd let him know if there was a problem. So, he quietly headed over to the little bar off to the side. He saw a couple guys in his unit at one of the lounge sections, sitting in soft couches surrounding a table. Doc Özlem and Lance Corporal Amos, Lance Corporal Garcia, Lance Corporal Belatzeko, and PFC Dunmore. Looked like the local NCO on duty was Staff Sergeant O'Brien. That sniper on Illium. He stood off to the side. Arms crossed, a little pissy.
Yeah, Dubbo felt what he felt. It was annoying.
Dubbo made his way over to the bar, seemed like a good watch point. Make sure marines don't order anything stupid. He went up, tried to ask for a coke over the noise, and waited. The bartender said something, Dubbo wasn't sure what so he just said yes.
He could barely hear himself think. His chest vibrated with the fast beat.
A few people were at the bar… He thought he recognized one of them, and...damn, mate. Wasn't his type, but after a few months anything becomes your type. Brown eyes and skin. Curved noise. Long black hair that reached her shoulders.
The bartender, one of those Turians, gave him his drink. "It'll be twenty-five credits…"
Aw shit. Rioght. Dubbo forgot about that for a moment. He wasn't sure how much twenty-five credits was in UNSC creds, and he doubt they'll take his credit from his military allowance account.
"On the house, man. I had a cousin on Illium. You guys saved him." Another bartender said as she came by.
Dubbo nodded, said his thanks. He took a sip… Ugh, this coke tasted hella weird.
Really, really weird.
It wasn't bad. Just different. Like it was filtered through copper. Anyways, he might as well try something with this chick. What else does he have to fucking lose?
"Ey, mate. I recognize you from somewhere don't I?" Dubbo started.
"Yeah, I think so. Back on the Infinity, right?" She began, "you're that Australian guy…"
"Yeah, how can you tell?" Dubbo said. She laughed a little. "Yeah, name's Chip. You?"
"Williams… Uh, Ashley Williams." She said. She had a soft voice.
"Eh, don't worry, we're off duty."
"Yeah. True." She smiled, thinking to herself. "I'm not gonna fuck you."
...Oh.
Jaysus.
Dubbo never been turned down that hard. Direct slap in the face. On one hand damn, damn. On the other, at least he didn't have to play games all night trying to figure out if she's hard to get or just not into him.
"Oh, well, uh…" Dubbo admittedly wasn't sure what to say.
"Just letting you know. You know, so you aren't wasting your time." She politely, matter-of-factly said.
"Um, appreciate it?"
"Oh shit, chica turned down another one." Another voice said. A guy came up in, guess the closest thing to compare it to would be boots and utes. Dog tags hanging out. He had tattoos on his arms and a high fade that lead to almost sorta a mohawk. He was holding two drinks in his hand.
"Hey, wait, ain't you the guy who tried to force that weird jellyfish thing onto our ship?" He added.
"Yup. That'd be me…" Dubbo awkwardly said. Not sure where else to take this, "yeah, sorry about that, mate. Top guys ordered me to try and get that little guy in there like a car salesman."
"Naw, it's all good man. I get it. Sorry I was a total ass. Thing looked hella weird. Name's James. You already meet Ashley."
"Chip. And yeah, it does, mate." Dubbo tried to save himself from embarrassment. "So you're Normandy crew. What are you guys, sailors? Marines?"
"Systems Alliance Marine Corps. 'Rah."
"Eerah." Dubbo replied back. He looked around. Well, seemed System Alliance marines and sailors wore the same uniform but he could tell the difference now. Marines had a dagger surrounded by laurels on their shoulder pads.
"So do they still do things like we do 'em?" James asked.
"And what do ya mean, mate?" Dubbo asked. This coke didn't fizzle as much as usual... But he felt ok.
He ordered another. On the house again.
"Me and James were talking about this…" Ashley said.
"Oh, mate…" Dubbo knew where this was heading. He already had enough of these arguments back when he was a boot and lance corporal. "If we're comparing who's dick is bigger-"
"No, trust me. We're not new." Ashley said. "We're just comparing. There isn't a lot us, and not many like us. Quarian's got their marines but they're completely different. Turians are just specialized army units. Asari "marines" are just sailors given guns."
"You looking for a mate, mate?" Dubbo answered. He finished another coke. He noticed it had a very sweet aftertaste. "Hey, I'm right here. I'll keep ya warm."
"Yeah, she told me she's a ride I wouldn't survive." James answered. He handed her the drink… It was green. She downed it in one go. "I believe her."
Dubbo smiled, "hey, mate, doesn't intimate me. I'm just glad to be on the ride."
That got both of 'em to laugh. Hell...Dubbo laughed a little.
"We're our own thang. Marine through 'n through. We still got MCRD San Diego and Parris Island….Hell through." Dubbo noticed his words were a little slurred.
Wait a tick.
He finished another coke. It was maybe three or four ounces.
"Well, let's hope the rest of these idiots are just comparing like us." Ashley said. She looked around to the bar. A lot of off duty UNSC marines. They were mingling, dancing, drinking. Groups forming with Alliance marines, civies, so on.
"Speaking of which," Dubbo said. "I'm the OOD.I... should probably make a round up to the main dance floor. Make sure... nothing stupid's happening."
"Really… You're OOD, amigo?" James said, unsure. He had an eyebrow raised. "You've been drinking a lot of Asari vodka."
"...What…?" Dubbo asked. He looked at his cup as if it were an alien object… He didn't taste the alcohol at all. It didn't burn at all. "Why did they serve it…? I asked for a coke…"
"Well the bartender probably misheard you, and Turians probably don't even know what a coke is," Dubbo noticed Ashley sorta had to yell over the music. "And who pays twenty-five credits for a soda? Asari shit hits you slow, like a drug? That's why they serve a lot of it. You're gonna feel it in a few."
Aw fuck.
That's probably what the bartender said. Something about vodka… Christ, mate, there had to be a few shots in each glass.
"Oh shit…" Dubbo said to the two.
He stepped away from the bar. He noticed he stumbled a little. His words were slurring."Shit, mates… Why...ya didn't tell me?"
"Well, we didn't know you were on duty." James replied.
"I...have a pistol…"
"Oh...I didn't notice that… How did you get it by C-SEC?"
Shit. Shit. Shit… Dubbo walked towards the main dance floor. He heard Ashley say something but over the music he wasn't sure what it was.
Dubbo stepped over to the lounge where his Marines were. Özlem and Amos were talking about something.
"I'll pay you a whole paycheck if you talk to those Asari chicks." Özlem said.
"We get paid fucking two dimes and a soda can. Most of us don't get paid."
"Then I'll pay you fucking two dimes and a soda can." She responded. The group looked over to the Lieutenant. "Hey, L.T. Would you bang one of these Asari…?"
"Fuck, mate…" Dubbo said...He wasn't sure what he said after that.
Dubbo sorta stumbled. The marines looked to each other.
"You good, sir?" Özlem asked.
"Yeah, matezz. All good." Dubbo walked away, not sure where and not really sure why. But he slowly and carefully walked up the stairs to the main dance floor.
He wanted to dance. Kinda wanted to dance...He wasn't really sure why but it just seemed like a good idea in the moment. He reached the dance floor. It smelled of sweat, perfume, and peach body oil. It was crowded. Girls in those amazing server uniforms and regular civie clothes were dancing along the wall. It was crowded, it was loud.
Dubbo felt pretty good.
He saw one UNSC marine dance with a Systems Alliance marine. The UNSC marine was into it, she pushed her hips in very close.
Dubbo tried to dance with the crowd, not sure with who… It was...a strange stumble as he tried not to fall over.
After about a couple minutes…? he decided to say fuck it and headed over to the bar, dizzy and disoriented. He leaned over the bar counter. His stomach didn't feel too good. One of the bartenders saw him. Turian mate dude.
"Hey, uh, if you're gonna vomit, just let me know so I can grab the bucket. Okay?" He said.
Dubbo was barely able to nod. It was like all the weight was transferred to his head and it pulled his body around.
Someone stood next to Dubbo over the bar counter. She was an Asari, dressed in that black armor with red signal lights. She had a black bar tattooed on her face, going from one temple to the other. It surrounded her eyes and covering the bridge of her nose. It was exactly like a raccoon.
Nothing to lose, Dubbo thought. He took Özlem's bet.
He straightened himself up. Tried to concentrate. Leaned on the table.
You got this, mate.
Shit. What should he say first?
"Hey, you're one of those Asari...soldiers, roight?" Dubbo said. His mouth was running faster than his brain. He was slurring really bad.
"Oh, uh...yeah…. Armali Second Biotic Infantry Division. We're on rotation." She was friendly. Light-hearted. Energetic and young. "We deploy to Thessia in about a week."
She didn't seem creeped out… Or maybe Dubbo was really, really drunk. Either way, she'd punch him in the face if he was being to weird, right? Who knows.
"Uh...what about you?" She asked out of politeness.
"Oh, right. Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Infinity Detachment."
"Oh, you're with that ship?"
"Yeah, that ship. UNSC Marine Corps, drop from space onto the ground."
"We're combat biotics. I think a lot of humans compare it to something called the Force or something?"
Dubbo nodded, pretended to be impressed. Something's off. She wasn't weirded out at all… Maybe he was high also.
Or maybe she was also drunk as hell. Who knows.
Well either way, this was okay.
"Ha. Always wanted to be a jedi." Dubbo began. He held out his hand.. Wasn't he on duty? "Name's Chip."
"Chip? Like...Potato Chip?" She said. She took his hand.
"Well, whatever's easier to remember. What about you?"
"Name's P.B."
"P.B? Like...Peanut Butter and Jelly?"
She looked over to the bartender. She ordered...shot of tequila Dubbo thought. "I keep hearing that one from humans. Real name's Pelessaria, but since not even most Asari call me that, everyone in my platoon just calls me P.B. P. E. E. B. E. E."
Dubbo was figuring out why she wasn't weirded out. Why she was easy to talk to. Well, she deploys in a week. Maybe like him she was just looking for a good time before her unit rotated back out
That's how it always worked. Couldn't really have a relationship when your constantly on the move across the galaxy. Most who tried didn't succeed, but there were a lucky few.
...He wasn't sure why he was thinking about that last part.
"Alright, Peebeeeee," Dubbo said that longer than he meant to. "So what are you in your platoon? NCO? Officer?"
"Me? Please. I'm only eighty-two years old. I'm just another grunt.
Only eight-two. Right. Asari live for a thousand years or some crazy shit. Well, Dubbo wasn't sure if that made things weird or not. She looked like she was just as old as Dubbo, around twenty or twenty-one. She sounded young.
Maybe just pretend he didn't hear that?
"Damn. Wish I looked as fuckin' good when I'm that old." Dubbo said.
That made her laugh a little.
Dubbo smiled.
…
18:21
It was nice to be on a break Buck thought to himself. Maybe not really since he had a direct comm. line to battalion in case shit went wrong, but so far a few hours into libo that didn't seem to be happening. The only bad thing Buck heard was that some lance corporal bought a hamster or something, and another bought a aquarium's worth of alien fish.
He heard the marines were going to try and cook the fish.
He wondered though how the hell did they accomplish that when they had no money to spend? Both UNSC or Citadel Credits.
Or maybe they were just rumors? Some news from the lance corporal underground might be wrong.
"Hello, my name is Commander Shepard and this is my favorite store on the Citadel." A audio clip came from one of the stores Buck passed.
Man. Nearly every store Buck came across played that same audio file.
Buck had spent most of his time in the quieter area known as the Presidium, trying to hunt down a souvenir for his wife. He wasn't sure what to get her exactly, but something nice. Nothing expensive, but nothing cheap either.
"And where would we begin to administer UNSC medical aid?" A voice said. Buck looked over to a video monitor with a few civies crowding around it. The text as the bottom of the screen said it was spoken by some person named Councilor Tevos.
"We'd plan to begin at the Citadel." Doctor Charet replied. The camera switched to her face.
Buck kept walking. He [assed by a group of marines. They all saluted him and he saluted them back.
He entered into a small little garden area with benches and clean white walkways that had a perfect view of that river. The sun was slowly beginning to 'set' into a light orange glow.
"Buck?" A familiar voice said.
Buck knew who it was. He immediately turned to a park bench up against a wall.
Jesus, it was…
"Veronica?" Buck said in disbelief. He stepped towards her. She was dressed in Citadel civilian clothes. The long red and blue gown dresses. Her hair was down. The blue cloth matched her eyes. She looked good. "What are you… How did you get on here?"
Jesus, it's been about six months since he saw her. Three months since he spoke with her. He knew what he was getting into when he married her, but Jesus… How...how was she here?
"A lot of us are already on here," She motioned for him to sit down. He did. Right beside her.
"A lot…? Jesus. We knew something happened with ONI but the Navy has barely told us anything."
She grimaced. "Even when you're an officer you might as well be a grunt, Ed."
"Only with me…" Buck briefly looked over the river. "Veronica… What's happening? I know I can't contact you when you're on duty, but...what the hell is happening?"
Veronica looked at him, and for the first time she looked...scared. "Buck...things are about to get dangerous. Very dangerous. Not like before. Not like against the Covenant or the Innies."
"I'm surprised NCIS hasn't investigated me yet."
"...They know you know nothing. They know I don't talk about the job."
"Yeah…" Buck placed his hand on her thigh. She gripped his wrist.
Veronica's grip tightened. "We...we fucked up. We fucked up a lot. But we're trying to fix that. We really are. We never meant for this to get out of hand…"
"What's out of hand? Veronica, you have to tell me something." Buck looked at her. The orange glow mixed with her blue eyes. It painted her blonde hair a light ginger.
"We're trying to save Humanity, Buck… This time...the UNSC can't save it… Maybe not even the Master Chief." She said.
Buck wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't think.
"Will I see you again?" It was the only thing he could think to say.
After six months...this wasn't how he expected to see her again. Not so sudden, not so serious...
"...I'll come back. I promise." She lifted her hand up to his check. She brought him close. She kissed him, and he returned it back.
He felt a tear run down her check.
He knew when she was lying. She does it a lot. Has to. It's part of the the job, and he learned not to ask any questions. But it was never like this. Never where she had to lie to reassure herself.
That she was scared beyond anything.
And Buck was scared for her. Scared what joining this war will bring. Scared for himself and his marines.
And if she had to lie for her sake, then he had to believe it.
"I love you." Buck said. He couldn't control it, but he felt his tears join her's.
"I love you too."
...
19:38
Dubbo was...enjoying himself. Of course the alcohol helped but hey he was enjoying himself.
Maybe an hour went by? Who knows. Fuck duty. Who gave a shit. In fact he ordered a beer, and actual water. Intermix. He was a aussie. He knew how to prevent hangovers.
"No shit. They actually teach you how to do that?" Dubbo asked.
"Goddess, on the first day it was raining like crazy. But our sergeant wanted us to do it anyway. We got one of our guys to maybe bounce twenty, twenty-five feet?" She said, smiling. Her eyes seem to light up with the memories.
Dubbo took a sip of his beer. He wasn't sure if he was slurring his words still. Peebee had a couple shots. "Chriost, mate. I thought the shit we did was crazy."
"So you people really don't have biotics?"
"First time we're seeing it. I gotta say it's hella…" Dubbo heard something. Something that was able to speak over the music.
Peebee heard it too. The two turned to the crowd. Dubbo saw a marine, UNSC marine in a Alliance marine's face.
"What the fuck you say?" The Alliance marine yelled. People started to back away from the two, and Dubbo saw UNSC and Alliance Marines breaking away from the crowd to back up their buddies.
"You heard what I said you fuckin' pussy!" The drunk UNSC marine said. He clumsily pushed the Alliance marine. "All of ya'll are fuckin' pussies.
Someone from somewhere turned the music down.
"The fuck are you talking about?" Another Alliance marine in the crowd responded.
Aw, Chriost.
This was exactly what command didn't want to happen. And yet...they knew it would happen anyways.
Marines are...an interesting breed. They had habits of doing stupid shit, and bar fights were one of those stupid pastimes. Whether it be against the local civilian populace, army, navy, air force, marine ODSTs, other battalions, other platoons, other squads, or simply other marines, it was just...shit that happened. Hell, one time Dubbo heard a bunch of marines got in a fight with a group of Spartan-IVs… Didn't end well for both sides.
Dubbo wasn't sure how to describe it. It was that duel personality of the Marine Corps. So 'professional' and 'the best of the best' and 'disciplined' always maintaining 'honor, courage,' and whatever the fuck. That sorta moto bullshit. However, they were also well known for being alcoholic womanizers. Dubbo remembered he got in plenty of stupid situations. However, now as an officer…
Fuck.
He hated this shit.
"Alright, that's enough." Someone said in a deep, scratchy voice. A alien came up. Big guy. The bouncer Dubbo assumed. He was a Krogan. Maybe had two feet on each marine. "Both of you are outta here."
He got in between the two. For whatever reason that seemed to piss off both marines even more. Dubbo saw Staff Sergeant Cortez coming up the stairs to check out who's fucking up.
The UNSC marine turned away, was beginning to walk down the stairs before the Alliance marine spoke.
"Yeah. That's right. Walk away, pussy. Retreat. I'm sure you guys do that a lot." He said.
Oh, you bloody wanker.
That even pissed Dubbo off. The UNSC marine turned around. Anger in his eyes. In a drunken stupor he tried to swing at the Alliance marine, but he was way off target. His fist landed on the Krogan's face.
It definitely didn't hurt the Krogan. Barely phased him. He glared at the UNSC marine for a second before screaming.
"AHHHHHHH!" He grabbed the marine by the collar, lifting him up into the air with one hand. Two other UNSC marines, one of them being Staff Sergeant Cortez, jumped on the Krogan. They tried to pull him off of the marine.
Another UNSC marine grabbed that same Alliance marine, punched him repeatedly in the face until another Alliance marine grabbed a glass beer bottle from the bar. He rushed over and smashed it over the UNSC marine's head.
And that's how the dominos fall. One after another, more UNSC and Alliance Marines were drawn in along with other alien militaries and civilians supporting their friends. There was angry yelling, pushing and hitting. The music completely stopped.
"Fuck. Always happens." Dubbo rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, your 'mates' sure know how to party." Peebee sarcastically said.
"Ain't my mates. My marines. Sorry I didn't tell you but I'm an O."
"So what am I doing talking to you?" She asked.
Dubbo began to walk towards the fioght, still stumbling a little. "Because I'm cute?"
She closed her eyes, smiled and shrugged. "Maybe."
That gave Dubbo enough confidence to deal with this crap. He stepped close to the crowd, began to bark. It got a few marines' attention. It was one thing to be blasted by an NCO, but to be blasted by an officer? That was scary.
"Alright, you wankers. That's enough! MPs are coming down here, if-"
He was stopped mid-sentence. Whether intentionally or by accident, some random Alliance marine right hooked him in the face. And Chriost did it hurt. Dubbo stumbled back a bit, and the fight almost stopped mid way through. Nothing but absolute silence as everyone froze. They all looked at the Alliance marine and Dubbo.
"Jesus Christ, you punched an officer." Someone said through the eerie silence. "You fuckin' idiot."
"Aw, Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry, sir." The Alliance marine said, scared.
But Dubbo could barely register it. His face still hurt.
This was the bullshit he had to deal with now?
Dubbo wasn't thinking. Of course he wasn't. He gripped the marine's collar.
"You stupid wanker!" Dubbo yelled, and used his left fist to punch him in the gut.
"Eeeeeeerah!" Someone screamed, and just like that the fighting continued.
Dubbo was about to punch him again until he heard another voice yell out, "I got 'em, sir!"
A UNSC marine tackled the Alliance marine in Dubbo's grip. They both fell to the ground. The UNSC marine was...a gunnery sergeant. Chriost, same one who was giving that speech earlier.
"Hey, we should get out of here!" Peebee said, tugging on his shoulder. She directed his attention to the front door and…
Aw shit.
MPs. UNSC Army MPs along with C-Sec police officers began to flood the entrance. They began to pin down the nearest people closest to them.
"Shit, mate, you're right." Dubbo said, he ducked down as a shot glass was flung at him. It hit someone else in the fight club.
"I know another way out. Back entrance. Let's get out of here, okay?" She said
Dubbo nodded. He saw that other marines were beginning to slowly and somehow subtlety through the chaos try to make their way out. No one wanted to get busted by the cops.
Peebee began to lead him down out of the main spire, turn the opposite way down a barely visible flight of stairs. They passed by a Alliance and UNSC marine tackling a Turian; a Krogan knocking a UNSC marine unconscious; a Volus dude punching a Alliance marine in the gut. Chriost, it was a absolute free for all. They reached another dance platform and witnessed a UNSC marine try to take on...one of those jellyfish lookin' blokes. A Hanar.
"Come on you big stupid jellyfish!" He yelled, fighting off a multitude of tentacles.
Peebee grabbed his hand and guided him forward. Through panicking and fighting crowds, maneuvering and sneaking past groups of C-SEC cops and Army MPs. They were in full arrest mood. Innocent or not, they'll sort that out later. Right now the order of business was order. They yelled at people to disperse and get down.
"Soon they'll start launching tear gas. Fuckers." Peebee said. A little more energetic and excited, as if she enjoyed it.
They turned down another flight of stairs covered in dark pink light. Dubbo was able to see more features of her face. She had light green and blue freckles all over her forehead and tentacle scalp things. They glistened in the light, like shells under shallow water. She had deep green eyes and purple lipstick that matched her skin…
Holy fuck he was really drunk.
They reached a small door, she opened up those weird orange comm tool things and typed in a command. It took a second for the door to open. Dubbo could overhear commands as police began to bust down on the violence.
The door opened, and they walked out into the orange Presidium sunlight. It was a small platform with a few flying cars next to it.
"Hey!" Someone yelled. The two turned around, saw two C-Sec cops. "Stop right there!"
"Come one!" Peebee yelled. They sprinted towards one of the cars. Dubbo assumed it was hers.
She opened the doors and slipped in, dragging Dubbo along with her. She got in the pilot's seat. The inside looked like a normal car. Leather seats. Dashboard. No steering wheel though. Just blue electronic holographic lights. Dubbo barely had enough time to get in before she started the car and took off.
Oh God it felt like being in a Pelican.
She dipped the car towards the Presdium. They dropped maybe three-hundred feet. She gave a excited cheer as Dubbo began to scream and grip onto his seat.
He felt sick as hell.
She spinned the car and aimed it toward what looked like the main Presidium shopping center, diving through and maneuvering past traffic lines. Dubbo could hear car horns from angry drivers.
After a few minutes, seeing that no cops were following them, she eased on the stick and slowly glided into a designated parking zone. She glided the car into a spot.
Dubbo was breathing heavy, gripping the seat until his knuckles turned white. Absolutely frozen still.
"Jesus, fuck, mate-" Dubbo was stopped mid-sentence again. Peebee grabbed him and kissed him.
Dubbo pushed her back. "Ouch," he said. His right cheek hurt like hell.
"Shit, sorry." She kissed him more gently, and Dubbo kissed her back.
...
23:56
"As diplomatic meetings wrap up between the Citadel Council and the UNSC, the future of the Reaper War…" A audio channel was saying in the elevator.
Diplomatic talks had gone well. Both sides didn't want to fuck this up.
"I think he's down here?" Mickey said, not really sure himself. They exited the elevator on the third floor. The hotel receptionist said he saw the two head up here.
No one was quite sure where the hell the OOD went. Rookie was next on the roster, but it made it kinda difficult since he couldn't find Dubbo to relieve. After Buck spent some time with his wife, he was pulled back. He and the other officers had to bail their Marines out. That was a lengthy process, and seeing that Dubbo was not among them they did some investigating. Based on eyewitness from a few marines and an Elcor (weird looking guys), Dubbo ran out of the club half drunk with some Asari girl.
And it was way past libo end time.
And since C-Sec had a lock on their car, they tracked them to this hotel. Thank God Buck talked them out of doing anything.
God. Well, it honestly wasn't all that bad. It was just a long talk with Citadel Security and Army MPs. They agreed to keep this under the rug and try to keep it quiet as much as possible. For everyone's sake. No shit had gotten on the news, and Commander Bailey said he'll do everything in his power to make sure civies were 'persuaded' not to talk about it.
Whatever that meant.
"Well, this is the room." Romeo said. He was also a little hungover, but okay. He banged on the door. "Yo, Chip, open the fuck up!"
Romeo kept pounding on the door. It caused one of the neighbor's to open the door, "hey! Keep it down, asshole!"
"Yeah, well your mom!" Mickey yelled back. The neighbor rolled her eyes and closed the door.
Buck could hear rummaging, and someone tripping over something. After about a minute later the door opened. It was Dubbo, in blue boxers and a grey moto t-shirt that had ODST written across it with his unit symbol.
"Um, hey...mates…" He said, squinting.
Buck pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus Christ, Lieutenant."
"Yeah, mate… The Asari…" Dubbo began.
Buck sighed. He began to rub his face, "God fuck… Well, casualties weren't so bad. Only some broken bones, ribs, and such…. We got everyone back, a couple marines were missing...including a gunnery sergeant and a officer…."
"Uh huh…"
"We of course didn't tell our boys, because officers can't be seen fucking up like this. Ya know?"
Dubbo slowly nodded, looked back into the room for a moment.
"Was it worth it?" Romeo asked. He crossed his arms
Dubbo thought about it for a moment, slowly nodded. "Asari, man… It was...it was good."
Romeo gave him a thumbs up.
"Riiiight…" Buck interrupted. "I don't believe in NJPs or fucking over someone's life. Just...sleep it off. Be at formation tomorrow by zero-ten. Major Stacker is gonna blast the fuck outta your unit and haze them until they vomit out their hangovers."
Yeah. Sounds like the Marine Corps. Honestly….maybe it was a deserving punishment.
"I don't know, We'll see what happens at formation tomorrow. How I feel… It's been a shitty night for everyone." Buck said, distant.
"Except for you." Romeo added, "we're probably gonna haze the fuck out of you. You know, behind the enlisteds' backs."
"Anyway, afternoon tomorrow start packing your bags."
"Uh, sir?" Dubbo asked.
"We leave in forty-hours. We have new orders. We're deploying."
…
Aboard UNSC Infinity
PT Grounds 3
2557 Military Calendar, 10:00
August 1st
"Jesus H. Christ…" Major Stacker began. He looked over the battalion formation of UNSC Infinity ODST detachment. They were organized into their platoons, sections, and shops. Dubbo already knew who was guilty. Those who were involved in the fight stood at absolute parade rest, trying to not sway back and forth. Everyone else had a dull, bored, and almost angry look on their face. They weren't even guilty but they had to be here anyways.
"So I guess we want to be stupid, huh?" Stacker asked the battalion. No one responded. Stacker let the silence fill the room. The PT area was merely a football field surrounded by a running track. Dubbo saw a marine at the front of second platoon's formation with a massive bruise over his left eye. He fell on the ground. Face first.
"Hell ya. That's tight." Stacker continued. "That's fucking tight. Hell, at least you could've gotta away from the damn cops."
There were some murmurs from the mass formation. They were all dressed in black on black PT gear. ODST stitched across their chests.
So was Dubbo and Stacker. When Dubbo woke up this morning, Peebee was long gone. For whatever reason...he was disappointed and a little sad. The bed seemed almost cold and empty…
Well, he couldn't dwell on it… He got dressed, got his stuff, got on the last Pelican out back to the Infinity… Now he was here.
"I'm gonna call out the rooster. Those names I do not call out can leave." Stacker said. He pulled out a datapad, "Asher, Bartzmen…"
It took maybe twenty minutes before Stacker got through the list. Once he finished he looked to the battalion, "start packing your shit and be ready. Infinity is prepping for transit and ya'll better be at your pods by fifteen-hundred for P.P.E checks. Platoon commanders, take care of it. If I didn't call your name fall out and go away."
The marines who weren't called looked relieved. They were in PT gear but didn't have to PT. Dubbo was relieved for them. This new breed of marine officer, born out of the War and knew how to get shit done without playing stupid fuck fuck games.
They slowly fell out of the battalion formation. They headed off the field back to their rooms.
Stacker looked to the rest of them, he nodded.
He gave a command, "PUSH UPS!"
Everyone left, maybe about one-hundred, hundred-twenty marines, fell to the ground into push up position.
"MARINE CORPS!" They all yelled. They braced for what was about to come.
"Dubbo, take half the men and run around the track until they get all the booze out of them."
God fucking…
This is such fucking bullshit. Dubbo hated the fuckin' Marine Corps. It's a broken ass, backwards piece of shit where nothing can get done-
"A'ight, you half follow me!" Dubbo ordered, pointing to a section of the battalion.
"Uh, sir?" One of the marines said as he got up. "What about him?"
He pointed the unconscious marines still on the ground.
"One of you is gonna fire carry him. Now let's go!"