S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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Go Sports

Posted on Wednesday August 21st, 2019 @ 08:48 hours by Mayterial Droz & Taben Natal

Mission: Hot Couture
Location: Unnamed sports bar, Surface, Rangalor V
Timeline: MD01 - Late afternoon
2569 words - 5.1 OF Standard Post Measure

With the Zero-G season in full swing it was always nice for Mayterial to find a sports bar and see a match, or highlights, or rerun. Enjoying some half decent food, some half drunk company and a stiff drink. This was a perfect way for her to unwind. Away from the high brow society of the academy. The two teams weren't her favourites, and this game had very little influence on the league standings, but football was football and it was best enjoyed on a bar stool shoulder to shoulder with someone who supported a team you detested, "That's fucking bullshit!" She pointed at the screen, responding to a call from the referee nullifying a beautiful play that resulted in a lost ball and a mad scramble to recover it.

Taben let out celebratory yell in approval of the call as he downed his latest shot of Saurian whiskey, double tapping his clear shot glass down on the table to alert the bartender of his need for refreshment. It was probably his fifth--or was it sixth. No seventh maybe? Who cared? He was having a great time, got to bring out his Stormriders jersey, and was finally enjoying a break.

Taben loved bars like these. He was always so tired of the bullshit. The bullshit in life. The bullshit way people talked to each other. The bullshit appearances everyone kept up. Sports bars were a lot like orgies, but required a lot less work. Here people could be people, they could drop the bullshit masks that they hid behind in their lives--and have a few dozen drinks in the process. Plus there were usually a bevy of beautiful men to be found--though they seemed rather scarce today. Patience he thought to himself as he downed his next drink and focused on the game in front of him.

"Hey! Hey!!! YEAAHHHH!!!!" Taben yelled out as he threw his right arm up into the air and gave a victory pump as he watched his team score a critical point. He turned to a nearby stranger who was also wearing the jersey of the Risa Stormriders and engaged in an obligatory chest bump with him as Taben's stool bumped into his neighbour.

Mayterial rolled her eyes and went to take a final swig of her drink before being bumped into by the guy next to her, spilling the contents of her glass on her shirt, "What the fuck man! As if it isn't bad enough that you're supporting those glorified waiters and flight attendants..." She started to wipe down the spill on her shirt with a napkin. It wasn't so much the mess as the missing of a swig that bugged her. The shirt she was in had been relatively clean but after the day in the city, it was stained with sweat, grease and probably some things she didn't even want to know, brandy was the least of her worries.

Taben let out a snide chuckle as he grabbed his refilled shot glass and downed another drink before turning to the lady sitting next to him. "Well, those 'glorified waiters and flight attendants' are kicking your team's ass soooooo..." he grinned as the guy next to him gave him a supportive pat on the back.

"Are you seriously accusing me of being a Tearblazer?!" May referred to derogatory name of the team the Stormriders were facing in this match, "Clearly I'm a R-"

"YEAAAAAHHH," the stranger exclaimed enthusiastically, "You tell that bitch, man!"

May quirked an eyebrow and looked at the guy that had bumped into her, she put up a finger as if to indicate she'd be back in a minute, "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to put you on asshole waiting." She stepped off from the stool and up to the guy. The past few weeks had been bad enough for her to make a point of this, she grabbed the inebriated man by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him closer, "What did you just call me?"

Taben placed a finger up to his ear, simulating the communication devices often worn by comm officers on vessels, signifying his "holding" as he swiveled his chair toward the stranger. He took a sip of shot glass, which was discretely refiled again by the bartender. This time savouring a small sip of the Brandy rather downing the whole thing. This ought to be entertaining he thought to himself.

The inebriated patron's eyes widened as he was pulled from the safety of his stool by this woman. He wasn't entirely sure if this event was a stroke of good or bad luck. It was the most attention he'd gotten from a woman all week--but in this drunken state, he could hardly process it all in his head. After a few moments of silence, the man made his decision.

"Hey I'm Tomás," Tomás said as he did his best to muster a cute smile, managing only to make himself look like a hopeless dork, "I said: You wanna come back to my place? You're really cute."

Taben couldn't refrain from letting out a high-pitched giggle as he covered his hand over his mouth, hoping it wasn't audible to those around him. He was a terrible giggler. Despite his low-pitched speaking voice and often imposing figure, scenes like this one just tickled something deep in his core. Most straight guys lacked game but damn, this guy was comical. At least Tomás seemed to have enough sense not to try to lean in for a kiss. The Trill took another sip of his shot glass, curious to see how the lady would respond. If only he had a bag of popcorn to enjoy with his show.

"Nobody wants to come back to your place" With a swift knee jerk May hit the man in his groin and shoved him back to his bar stool. With that she quietly walked back to her own seat and sat back down, she tapped on the bar next to Taben, to get his attention back, "Thank you for waiting. I'm clearly a Rover girl. And I expect to be compensated for the drink you spilled."

Taben tapped his ear, pretending to be opening back up the channel as he continued, "A Rover girl eh? Well, I've got mad respect for people who cheer for losing teams. I guess you really would need a drink." He grinned as he waived the bartender, "She'll have a Chech'tluth. Hell, I'll have one too. Let's step it up a notch."

Taben turned at looked at Tomás who was too busy nursing his pride in order to focus on the game. Taben shrugged as he turned back to the lady sitting next to him. She clearly was the more interesting person to talk with tonight.

"I don't usually order women drinks," Taben said in a playful tone, "My mother would be so happy. I just hope you aren't disappointed when I don't invite you back to my place for the night."

Mayterial shrugged, "I make a point of not turning down a free drink, regardless of who offers it." It was clear to her that she lacked the required plumbing to make him happy. Which wasn't a rarity, sometimes it was annoying for her if she wanted to get someone drunk and reckless and easily parted with his money. Not her goal tonight, "Plus, clearly you have no clue about Zero-G, so that's a dealbreaker anyway."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. Fortunately, I've got other business here tonight than to show you the error of your ways about Zero-G team loyalties." Taben pulled out a small Federation PADD and plopped it unceremoniously on the table. The bartender brought over a pair of steaming drinks housed in brutalistic silver chalices, laying them both out on the bar.

"Be careful with those," the bartender said with a tone of half-hearted concern, "If we have to clean vomit or blood off the floor, it goes on your tab."

Taben said nothing but waived off the bartender as he waited for her to leave before leaning in to Mayterial. The Zero-G game was still ongoing in the nearly full bar. Between the loud conversations, cheering, and yelling, it was easy to have a discrete word, even in this public setting. Still, a degree of discretion was certainly wise.

"I hear you're looking for a Master at Arms. That's my resume, that's how much it takes to get me on board--all on that PADD." He took a small sip of the Chech'tluth before continuing. Even someone with an iron liver such as himself was careful in how they consumed one of the strongest drinks in the Alpha and Beta quadrants. Before he continued his "interview" he gave the Captain time to read over his resume and react.

"You must be joking." May pushed the PaDD back after scanning the contents and seeing the number he was requesting for his services, "Oh wait, you're a Stormrider fan, you must be delusional." She shook her head, playing up the fact that she wasn't interested in his services. From the short glance she had been able to tell that he would be a good addition to the crew, but right now she was playing hardball to get the price to go down.

"Playing hard to get after I bought you a drink?" Taben taunted as he took a rather large gulp of the Chech'tluth as he leaned in closer to the Captain, "Look, I'm not someone dumb with a gun like most hired guns out here. You're hiring my brain, which is far more deadly than my weapons. Hence why you need me--and why you have to pay that premium." He pulled himself away from the Captain as he extended his arms from side to side for dramatic effect, "How many people have you interviewed who tracked you down, know your ship, and did the research and reconnoitering needed to end up sitting right next to you in this shitty dive bar in a far-flung region of the Milky Way? If I do all that crap for an interview, how'd you think I'd perform for something serious?"

Mayterial pointed at the shirt sporting the Stormriders logo, "Poorly." She took another sip of the drink and returned her attention back to the game on the screen, which was nearing the end, "if you really did your homework you'd know that even if I wanted to," She put up a finger to stop him from interrupting, "which I can't stress enough that I don't," another quick sip, "I wouldn't be able to cough up that number for a Master-at-Arms."

Taben smiled as he pulled out another PADD, "As it happens, I have an alternative arrangement for those on a budget." It was, of course, an alternate arrangement in his favour. While it was far less latinum up front, it demanded a bigger pull of profits brought in--and a particularly hefty 33.33% of any business or passengers he brought in. He took a more moderate sip of his beverage waiting for the Captain to peruse the contract. In all truth, he preferred this sort of contract--which is why he always presented the other model first.

"I think I'll pass, thank you for the offer though." May knew she needed a capable MaA and this man surely seemed like one, but the fact that he tracked her down specifically and set up this sort of 'chance meeting' on Rangalor of all places told her one thing more than anything else. He needed her as much as she needed him. She wasn't sure why, of all the rustbuckets in all of the quadrant he insisted on wanting to join hers, but it gave her a distinct advantage in these negotiations.

Time to call and see where the chits fall Taben thought to himself. He nodded to the Captain as he pulled out a small tin, removing a small business card which he placed over the PADD with his contract offer. He was nothing if not a sentimentalist, preferring ancient paper cards to holocards. "There's my subspace frequency for when you change your mind." Taben downed the rest of his Klingon liqour in a single shot. Shit, he was going to pay for that in the morning, "I'm around for another 48 hours." He waived for the bartender to bring him the tab as he pulled out a small credit chit.

"Don't hold your breath," Mayterial saw that the game was coming to an end, there was quite a bit before the next game would start, which wasn't something she wanted to wait for. She wasn't a fan of the Klingon booze but at least they knew how much alcohol to put in their drinks, she grabbed the paper card, "You have one of those worms in your belly?" She called after him.

"Only twats who suck up to the right people in power ever get any of those," Taben replied with a tone of slight disdain as he tapped his credit chit on the counter-top. It was an issue that riled up a lot of Trills and he was sure she knew that. "I'm not a suck up, therefore, I don't have one. See? That's a syllogism. Enjoy your logic lesson, on the house."

Mayterial gave a short nod in understanding, "The rate is 2 bars. Unless you feel up to the challenge of being my First Mate." She knew she shouldn't let sports team allegiance be an indicator of how capable a person was, and even Stormrider fans could be a capable bunch. What did she have to lose? If there wasn't a fit she'd simply get rid of him on the next port, or if it really came to blows there was always the airlock.

The bartender finally made an appearance as Taben handed him the credit chit. He paused for a few moments, his eyes looking up at the top of the bar as he lost himself in thought, doing the mental calculations on how this offer would play out if he accepted it. Instinctively, he reached down for the non-existent alcohol cup, only realizing his error after he squeezed empty space. He had intensely researched the possibility of Master at Arms and was rather caught off guard by the offer of First Mate. Still...Carpe diem, he thought to himself.

"I'm in, First Mate," Taben replied decisively as he looked the Captain in the eyes. "We go back to that first number I gave you and all the cuts I mentioned and you've got a deal." He held out his hand. It was a peculiar custom, but one he had come to appreciate after his time serving on Federation vessels for the level of personal contact it provided to "seal the deal."

Mayterial reached out and shook his hand in agreement, "Now sit the fuck down and I'll teach you a thing or two about Zero-G." She motioned the bartender to pour them two new drinks and looked back up to the screen where a new game was just about to begin. Maybe today wouldn't turn out to be so bad after all.

[OFF]

Mayterial Droz
Captain

&

Taben Natal
First Mate

S.S. Fawkes

 

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