Panther Bar, Part Two
Panther Bar, Part Two
Summary: Marines vs Pilots, Round Two
Date: 16 ACH
Related Logs: Round 1

Ramiro closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a slow breath when Wulf turns the evil eye on Micah. "Please, Apollo, not again." He looks up and smiles as a kiss is blown his direction and blushes brightly. He gives Manny a broad smile as he starts to think quickly. "Holy frak, Lance…" Ramiro waves in Wulf's vision to get his attention. Speaking clearly and concisely, he addresses Wulf. "Hey Lance I need your help. A girl, a real, actual girl, just gave me the look. I need you to make sure that no one tries to beat me up while I go talk to her allright? I think your advice is sound. Now…you cannot get into a fight with the pilot under any circumstances while I talk to her because I need a wingman if she's got an ugly friend." He stands and moves over to Manny, smiling brightly at her. "Hey…you're Manuela right? From the park and the crab shack the other day? Nice to see you around I was hoping we'd get to talk."

"Hear it however you want," Micah mutters over his shoulder to the Marine who's getting antsy, "Just lay the frak off wi' the romantic advice-" He pronounces that word as if he's highly skeptical about it, "-'cause ah'm fair stalled with hearin' about it." His speech is also devolving into the territory of nigh-incomprehensible Aerelon. But he's still slumped in his chair, sipping his drink and smoking his cigarette, and not making any aggressive motions toward the older Marine.

"Oh, Im sorry" Wulf says and clears his throat. "I wasnt aware you were on duty there, ensign, since you are giving me an order. But since you are drinking…" he makes a theatrical pause. "… Now… Either you are drinking while on duty, or you are making threats off-duty. Either way… I could toss you into the brig… Sir" Wulf points out. "Heck, deep fry my pubes and call me white, but the way I see it, you either are drinking on duty, or, you will keep your voice down before it gets you locked up in the brig. You're call, ensign."

Manny thumbs the side of her nose, eyebrow raising as Ramiro comes over and she looks vaguely amused, giving Ramiro another slow once over before just chuckling softly, that distinct accent of hers coloring her words. "Aye, I'm Manuela, but most folks call me Manny, mijo…" She trails off to stare over towards Wulf and Micah, eyes flickering between the two before she rolls her eyes. "You both have dicks, muchachos, shut the frak up and drink in peace and leave and military shit on the military ships…aye?" She rests a hand on Ramiro's shoulder, squeezing gently before handing him her glass of whiskey and sauntering closer to Wulf and Micah, hands on her hips.

"Thanks I uh…" Ramiro manages before he's handed the drink and Manny walks past him towards Wulf and Micah. Tilting his head a little, he blanches and shares a little laugh with the bartender. Now thankfully off of the pain meds, he looks over the whiskey and ponders it for a moment. Turning around to watch Manny approach the two, he downs the shot and sets it on the bar. Sliding the bartender some money, he nods in Manny's direction to signal that he's setting her up with a tab.

There's a low chuckle from the pilot, lashes lifting for a heartbeat as he looks Wulf square in the eye. He's probably not on duty, since he's wearing the top half of his flight suit tied off around his waist. "Wasn't an order, mate." Sip. Smoke. "Wasn't a threat, either." Which only leaves a couple of possibilities, but he's still keeping his cool. Somewhat, anyway; he does look the faintest bit jittery. Manny is briefly watched, and then disregarded.

"Good, ensign" Wulf says with a nod, his frown letting off somewhat but his stern gaze remains. "Then we understand each other. Which means I am free to voice an opinion, correct? Which means you dont get to tell me that you will put me out of my misery should I chose to keep voicing my opinion. Isnt that so, ensign?" Wulf then takes a sip of his water. "Oh, I pray it is so, for the good your career, sir. Because I would love to see you wear your fancy pilot-outfit for as long as I have worn mine. Agreed, ensign?"

Manny continues to look between Wulf and Micah, eyebrows shooting up before she turns back to Ramiro and she rolls her eyes. "You know? I hate men's pissing contests. They're so busy aiming the piss at one another, /every frakking thing else/ because mute and invisible." She sighs and sidles up to Ramiro's side, resting a hand on his shoulder and tilting her head as she looks up at the man. "So, tell me…ahhh…Ramiro was it? I think that's your last name, cuz I can't just keep callin' you Toy Soldier, as cute as it is not as specific as I'd like." She snaps a finger to the bartender, ordering another shot of whiskey. "How have you been?"

"Getting better every day." Ramiro replies, smiling down to the woman on his shoulder. "Dane, please call me Dane. Unless of course you prefer Ramiro or Toy Soldier." He smiles back to her and takes one more shot for himself. Detaching just a little bit to raise the glass in her direction, as if to tap it against her shotglass, he watches her. "So tell me about yourself, Manny. What do you do here?"

Micah blows smoke out of his nose, sharply, and the grinding of his teeth is almost audible as his irritation mounts. "Aye. You're free to voice your opinions, mate. An' ah'm also free to inform you that you're a pissant who wouldn't know a woman's face from her arsehole." His cigarette's jabbed into the ashtray, and he picks up his glass as he begins moving slowly to his feet. "Furthermore, ah'm sick of fratchin' with you." Again he meets Wulf's gaze briefly, then shunts his chair against the table with his hip, and brushes past — presumably to seek out another booth.

"Well now" Wulf says, frown returning to his already hard features. "You better listen, son, and listen good. I've been in this uniform for close to twenty years. Now, since you are fresh out of basics in my book, you dont get to tell me anything, ensign, especially when you are off-duty. Now keep it up, or I will arrest you for conduct not befit an officer. Get with the program, ensign; Rank isnt everything in this here life, ya hear? If I so choose, your rank wont save you from the brig or my fist. So dont make me bring out the cuffs, son; It sure as hell aint worth my effort, or your career. Do we understand one another, boy? I hope to motherfrakking Apollo and Athena that you are listening good and true, because this is your last warning, ensign. Behave!"

"For now I just live here, I used to be on the PAS." Manny replies honestly before toasting glasses with Ramiro and then throwing back her shot and licking her lips. She flashes a grin. Then she looks back towards the other military peeps and turns her attention back to Ramiro. "So…you're getting better, hunh?"

"I'm getting alot better. My company just got prettier by about the power of ten." Ramiro winks at Manny after setting aside his empty shot glass. "Excuse me, Manny." He says and then turns to Wulf. Standing in the same spot, he calls out to the Lance Corporal. "Lance we are in an off duty area in a civillian sports bar. The Ensign is leaving your presence and although offduty a Corporal is requesting that you sit down and enjoy the game so that these good civilians can all see how well behaved and responsible their defenders are."

The viper jock doesn't seem to have anything further to say. Whiskey sipped from as he ambles off, the other hand's lifted to rather prominently give Wulf the finger before he drops himself into a chair at a back wall booth. So much for well-behaved.

Wulf gets out of his chair and slowly walks on over to Micah, dropping a pair of handcuffs on the table infront of him. "Cuff yourself, boy. You dont get to flip the bird to no man or woman wearing this uniform, on or off duty. The flip the bird at this uniform is like shitting in your hand and then smear it all over your own face; That is unacceptable, pilot. Drunk or not, you may explain yourself to JAG. Because me… I dont give a hoot what you're up to or how emotionally retarded you may be, ensign. Now… Cuff yourself and lets head back for the Genesis. You're shore-leave has come to an end, sir."

Manny chuckles and calls for another shot of whiskey as she idly cracks her neck as she taps a nail against the glass and just listens to Ramiro, eyeing the other military individuals with a small frown and then she just mutters. "Damn, the military sure has changed since I was last in it…"

Micah had been in the midst of finishing off his drink, by the time Wulf arrived at his table and tossed the handcuffs atop it. And he does so, rather deliberately: the contents are swallowed, and the glass set back down again as he looks up at Wulf. "What part of frak off, don' you understand, mate? You really want a fight? That what you want? Because if you do, ah'm happy to oblige, outside this frakking bar. An' if it in't a fight you want, then quit embarassing yourself."

"No…no it hasn't ma'am. Please…excuse me" Ramiro winks to Manny before stepping away with a sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he steps up behind Wulf and puts his hand on the MP's shoulder. "Lance Corporal Wulf." He starts. "No rules have been broken and to be honest you have zero jurisdiction here. He's allowed to come here to have a drink as he pleases as long as he follows the local rules. This ship has its own security…" Ramiro looks up to Micah, getting a bit of command into his tone. "If either of you step outside of this bar to fight, I will contact security and the two of you will be handed over to the MaA so fast you'll wish you'd stayed to watch the pyramid games." He pats Wulf's arms. "Now, don't make the same mistake a friend of mine did. Don't get lured into a fight. Be the bigger man and walk away. Shut up, stop fighting with the ensign and enjoy your meal. Otherwise, go walk it off. We need you on the line, Wulf."

It seems that Wulf is too caught up by the bad conduct on display and poor show of attitude, since he doesnt seem to react to Rarmiro's voice. "Listen, boy" Wulf instead says and leans down against the table, eyes stern behind his yellow shades. "Just because you're an ensign, doesnt give you the right to be an asshole. Understand? You have a code of conduct you have to follow. If you dont… You will get court martialled. Picking fights is not a good thing. Mouthing off, is not a good thing. Flipping the bird, is not a good thing. I have more than a dozen witnesses here, boy… Are you sure you want to go down this road? Because at the end of it, I will shove my arm up your ass, grab hold of your stomach and pull it out, and the I will frakking hog-tie you with it… Clear? So either vacate the premisis for disturbing the peace… or follow me back to the Genesis… hog-tied. Are we clear, ensign?"

Manny just grimaces and toys with her glass, watching Ramiro heading over there. She's just quiet for a few moments, sighing and setting the glass down on the bar and folding her arms under her bosom, just glaring as she watches. "Who's peace has he frakkin' disturbed?" She turns to glance at the bartender with a confused expression on her face.

Having displayed remarkable restraint, considering his proclivities and powder-keg temper, Micah seems finally to lose a little of that battle with his willpower. The cuffs are shoved aside, glass toppled and set to rolling — thankfully, it doesn't shatter when it hits the floor. This, of course, presages a swift motion to his feet, bringing him nearly nose-to-nose with the taller, bigger Marine. Not by much, though. "No, you listen, an' you listen good. If you don' get the frak out of my face, sit your arse down back over there, and don' breathe a single godsdamned word to me for the rest of the night, so help me I will see to it that you're sent packing to the brig so fast it'll make your simple little head spin. Ah'm not going to tell you again, Lance, ah'm at the end of my tether tonight." His tone of voice is low, even; it isn't a threat, it's a promise.

"Do me a favor and call security for standby please, tender?" Ramiro looks over his shoulder, also giving Manny an apologetic look. Stepping over he slides his only good arm, the left one, in between Wulf and Micah and starts to urge Wulf away from the Ensign. "I said stand down, Lance." Ramiro says, pulling a commanding tone in the MP's direction. "Leave the Ensign alone and go take a walk right now." He adds, glancing to Micah. "Please go back to your seat." He says with a bit of mock bitterness, off duty as he is, Micah is still an officer.

"Corporal" Wulf says to Ramrio. "No offense, but you aint no MP, and this is an MP matter. Do feel free to call on security, though, because I doubt that the ensign will leave freely on his own two legs. Picking a fight is not acceptable, and the ensign here seems to have been looking for one all along. He refuses to calm down, he refuses to behave like an officer; my duty is to bring him in. Sorry, Dane, but thats just how this ball of shit rolls."

Micah is still sporting the remnants of a mottling bruise on his jaw, not to mention some pins and plates riveting the thing in place, as evidence of his last brush with misdemeanor. He doesn't however lunge at the Marine, or so much as speak another word to him, however. Just a look askance to Ramiro, a briefer one to Manny, and he lowers his frame slowly back into his seat. Nicotine, nicotine. He begins hunting down another cigarette in the pockets of his open flight suit.

"Lance I am not asking the Ensign to leave. I am telling YOU to leave." Ramiro replies, trying to wedge himself between the pilot and the MP in his off duty clothes while trying to protect his right arm in its sling. As Micah backs off and sits back down, Ramiro plants his palm at Wulf's chest and shoves him back lightly. "Now you go talk a walk and don't you even consider coming back in here with that attitude." He grunts and then slowly shakes his head at the MP. "You read me, Lance?"

Gaelan steps in the Sports Bar, eyes glancing around to the unfamiliar place. Stopping just inside just gets accelerated for him to move along as Carina Security personnel push past the Major. The Marines eyes narrow at the sight of Security and he stands fast waiting to see what's unfolding.

"Corporal" Wulf says, his face turning grim. "Are you actually trying to hinder an arrest here? You are out of line, corporal, and obviously have no clue how far your authority stretches. Im within my rights to brig you as well at this moment, boy. The ensign has picked a fight, has disturbed the peace and flipped the bird to an MP. That is beyond any doubt one major frakking FUBAR situation that is not tollerated, officers and enlisted included. So either step aside, corporal, or I will have security bring you along for the ride to my sweet, honeydrenched brig. Im sorry, boy; But you have no authority at this moment. Now, step aside and let me do my job. This doesnt have to get any worse than it already is."

Teeth gritted together, the viper jock remains seated as Wulf and Ramiro haggle things out, and security arrives to the tune of a slight murmur of curiosity amongst the patrons. A cigarette is finally dug out and lit, and savagely smoked. Oh yes, he'd like to be putting his fist in the face of a certain Lance Corporal right about now.

Manny perks up when she sees Gaelan enter, kinda looking relieved before glancing back to the fracas with a roll of her eyes. Throwing back another shot of whiskey she continues to watch warily, grimacing as she just /stares/ at Wulf.

"Actually Lance, I'll be filing a report to both your commanding officer as well as the Ensign's based on your shore leave discipline." Ramiro replies, locking eyes with the Lance Corporal as he hears incoming boots. "Since we are at wartime but not under martial law it is the perogative of the local security teams to round up military personnel in the event of their misbehavior and deliver them to an MP on duty after transfer to their homebase." Ramiro practically hisses in Wulf's face. "Look…it's not my fault that you decided to bring your cuffs to a sport's bar, Wulf, but this is a civilian bar off of the military base which means that MPs do not have any authorities here unless granted them by said security force which is right behind you." Ramiro looks. "Alongside Major Gaelan whom I do not have to salute because right now I am unarmed and on leave." Ramiro gives Wulf another shove, standing between him and the pilot. "You are not touching the Ensign."

Gaelan eyes narrow at the comments and the Major pushes his way through the Security force to front of the pile. Leaning over he comments to the one who appears in charge, "Stand fast, Sergeant." The Carina security looks up as if about to say something then eyes dart to the rank and back towards the Marine nods with a flat comment, "Only for a moment, Sir." Looking towards the MP the Major steps up behind the Lance Corporal and flatly comments into the back of his head, "I sure as frak hope there is a good reason why we have the entire Security force standing here waiting to back you up, Lance Corporal Wulf." Eyes glance up to Ramiro and he lifts his hand to point at a nearby chair at an adjoining table. Not a word is spoken to the Marine before his eyes slide to stay focused on Micah since he seems to be the object of MP affection at the moment.

Turning, Wulf has no problems spotting the Major and goes to attention the following second. "Major" he says with his booming voice, snapping his yellow shades from his eyes. "Sir, I was about to have security arrest the ensign for disturbing the peace, inciting a fight and for flipping the bird to an MP on duty. His conduct is far befit that of an officer, off or on duty, Major!"

Micah rather has that look about him, of one that's set fire to an anthill and is watching as all hell breaks loose amongst the critters. He taps off some ash from his cigarette, half-listening while Ramiro reads his fellow Marine the riot act. And then the security's bustling up, and there's an unfamiliar Major in the mix. Scraping his fingers through still-damp hair, he ditches the cigarette before pushing to his feet. Nope, he's still not making any aggressive advances toward Wulf. "Sir," he greets Gaelan crisply and with a bit of tension in his tone, shoving his hands into the pockets of his flight suit. The 'charges' are neither corroborated nor denied.

"Sir." Ramiro nods to the Major, letting him take control of the situation. Stepping aside, he gives Manny an apologetic smile before lowering himself into the seat. Grabbing a glass of water, Ramiro silently sips at it and turns his eyes to the situation before him.

Manny is still standing near the bar, shrugging to random other fellow civies who have gathered some in different states of confusion. She tugs her neckline down some, adjusting it and just flashing Ramiro a 'it's okay' sign with her fingers.

Gaelan eyes look down to the Lance Corporal and nods slowly as he listens. Passing just a glance to Micah he points to the seat, "Sit down, Ensign. I will deal with you in a second." Looking back to the MP he flatly comments, "Specifics Lance Corporal. How did the Ensign disturb the peace? Who did the Ensign take a swing or provoke in an attacking manner to incite said fight?"

"Sir" Wulf says with his Sagittaron accent. "The ensign told me to be quiet as I was having a conversation with Corporal Ramiro, if not he would put me out of my misery, as he put it. I informed him that if he was off-duty, he could not give me such an order, especially while drinking alcohol. The ensign did not take it too well and mouthed off in a loud fashion, sir. Not to mention, flipping me the bird in the process. I gave him the choice to calm down, leave or follow me to the brig. He then wanted the two of us to settle it outside. I explained to him that he was doing himself no favors, yet he persisted. Since I am on duty, sir, I have the rights to apprehend him for hostilities against a man in uniform. Major."

Micah rolls his jaw to the side a little, mouth twisting in the most fleeting of smirks as he listens to the banter back and forth. "Sure, Major," he mutters, dropping himself back into that booth again, and kicking his booted feet up on the opposite chair. Then it's the dirt under his fingernails that garners his interest — or would, if he had any dirt there after decon.

Gaelan hmms slowly as he looks to Micah and watches him a moment then looking back to the MP. The Major turns to the Carina Security force and comments, "Sergeant. There is nothing to deal with here. I will handle this accordingly, your men can return to their posts. The Genesis extends it's apologies for thinning out your forces any more than necessary." The Sergeant scowls a look at those collected and ushers his men back from the joys of busting Military heads. The Major looks back to the MP and steps closer, sliding his hands behind his back as he comments flatly, "Lance Corporal. While I appreciate you extending your chow time to the Carina you have no jurisdiction here. Your shoulder reads the Battlestar Genesis and not the Carina. So with that being said your reactions and abilities are limited." Looking up to Micah then back to the MP he does add, "Instead of detaining the Ensign, you will document a report copying myself, the CAG and JAG on the actions that took place. Especially noting that he is drinking alcohol while still in uniform." Looking back up to Micah his eyes lock on the man the rasped voice flatly emits, "As for you Ensign, do not ever flip off one of my MP's again or I will break that finger personally. You are not a walking god on these decks because you have a piece of brass on your shoulder. The Colonial Navy issued you Off-Duties to be used for Off-duty time such as leave and drinking. I highly recommend that you start following those protocols and save the 'I'm a pilot' showboat routine for when you are behind a stick of a Viper. Now I want you to apologize to the Lance Corporal for your display of disrespect for a man who is obviously on duty and in uniform. Or he will detain you and you will spend time in the Brig."

Not trying to make himself a smaller target, Ramiro simply and calmly relaxes at the table, brushing his fingertips over the laquered wood tabletop. He sips his water quietly.

Manny stares at Gaelan and everything happening before she swallows and slaps a hand against the bar and turns to the tender. "Ice water. Frakkin /now/ bitch."

Wulf says nothing after the major is done with his chewing off. He stands in silence, at attention, awaiting the next asschewing from the major.

Micah narrows his eyes a touch as Gaelan speaks, though doesn't rise from his seat. "With all due respect, sir, ah'm due back on taxi duty in half an hour. Jus' came down for a quick drink, an' if it was anyone showboating it's this fine gentleman here." He came so very close to saying something other than 'gentleman'. "Now, I'll be happy to file a report, an' sit in the brig while I'm waiting to speak to the JAG, if that's what you want. But ah'm not apologising to a Marine who was on-duty an' hounding me for a fight in a civilian establishment."

Sipping his water, Ramiro turns at the slap and call for icewater near the bar. Tilting his head in Manny's direction, he maintains a blank face but a small bit of his eyebrow lifts as he looks to her, it's a curious glance.

"Understood, major. Will do, sir" Wulf says and sticks his shades into the opening on his jacket, and then reaches out to pick up the handcuffs from the table. He then turns to Micah, a big frown on his face, accompanied by eyes hard as rock. "Ensign, extend your wrists and prepared to be detained on the charges as stated by the Major. Do 'Not' add resisting arrest to the list; I would strongly adise against it… Sir."

Roz walks into the sports bar, which looks to be doing a hopping business. What else is there to do but drown sorrows. Noticing a few familiar faces here and there, she raises a hand with a finger wiggle and finds a spot at the bar. Tucking some hair behind her ear, she gives an order to the bar for some girly drink, "Aquarian Sunset."

"The frak?" Now the hackles come up, and Micah's starting to look like an animal backed into a corner. He looks from the Major, to Wulf slowly, and back again with his teeth gritted almost audibly together. "This is a civilian ship, Major, and this frakhead-" The sentence isn't finished, but he does swipe that glass off his table that was only clinging to the edge by a hair, and most likely the impact with the floor causes it to shatter. Hauling himself out of the booth, he shoves his hands at Wulf and keeps his eyes on Gaelan. If looks could kill, the man would be several times gone.

Manny's jaw drops as she gets her ice water and while she nods distractedly to Roz, her attention is on the altercation, staring.

Private Nico Lex enters the establishment in off duties, seeing as she's off duty. It makes sense. It's practically cosmic. Or, you know, not. The blonde reaches up to swipe her long hair into a ponytail, and crosses into the bar just as—what's this? An arrest? Some unrest is happening. Like a valkyrie to a battle, or a small child to a huge frosted, flawless, unguarded wedding cake, Lex arrives. And she promptly seeks out the nearest unguarded alcoholic beverage. No handsies, no ownsies. Please don't belong to the CO, please don't belong to the CO. Slurp.

Gaelan eyes narrow at the Ensign as the hands roll into a tight fist behind his back as he snaps back sharply, "Last time I checked /Ensign/ you were a Colonial Naval /Officer/. Which at all times is suppose to represent the the Colonial Navy at her /finest/. I also seem to remember getting pinned these nice and fancy Major rank pins on my uniform which means I /outrank/ you at all times since you are the property of the Colonial Navy. I do not give a frak if this is a Civilian vessel or not. We are at war. You are not acting like a Naval Officer and you are going to /my/ brig. So I suggest you shut your trap before I see this as an instigation for mutiny and put a bullet in your head."

Roz perks. Ok, not like that, but she does seem to now be interested in that booth after giving a smile to Manny and hearing the commotion. It's then she notices Crow and what seems to be going on over there. A look back to Manny with brow raising, then back to Crow, "Crow, what the frak now?"

Ramiro, seated nearby in a table, stretches his left arm behind his back and arches his back until he hears a slight pop. Running his hand through his hair, he looks up from his table beside the conflict and takes a moment to check the bandages on his sling-bound right arm. Letting out a slow sigh, he looks to his table for a moment and purses his lips and then looks up to Gaelan, watching quietly.

Manny takes a looooong sip of her water and she just shakes her head slowly. "…sweet damn…this is the weirdest damn thing I've ever seen in a long time."

Wulf hold up the cuffs infront of Micah, his frown that of an angry bear. "Ensign, the Major gave you an order. You are borderline resisting arrest. Now submit, or get my jackboot so far up your ass you will taste the gum beneath it. Extenad Hands, Ensign!

Gaelan eyes slide to the Corporal as he flatly states, "I want him in that brig just like I see him right now. Don't talk to the Ensign, just escort him Lance Corporal. He doesn't need a frakkin' play by play with the trip. Now get the frak out of here Lance Corporal and I want that report on my desk immediately and debrief the Sheriff." Stepping back from the two he points to the door and locks eyes with Micah, "Go." His hand lifts up and points to the exit hatch of the Sports Bar.

Micah has been here and done this enough times, by now, that he's likely an old hand at the routine. There's still not so much as a peep from him, nor any sign of struggling or resisting the arrest. Which isn't to say the viper jock looks happy — oh, anything but. He might just chew off that foot if it came anywhere near him.

Downing the last of his water, Ramiro rises to his feet. Setting the empty glass down, he looks around the room for a moment before turning his attention to Major Gaelan. As if expecting to be spoken to soon, he simply waits.

Roz just watches, not a good idea to step into MP stuff. She lets off a little sigh, tosses the froofie straw to the bar and just drinks from the glass now. "We arrest one of theirs, they arrest one of ours…it's like a frakkin' chess game between Brass."

Wulf grabs the handcuffs and lifts them, forcing Micah to bend slightly forwards to avoid any pains in his shoulders. "Come now, hotshot. Walk nice and slow, and you will reach your destination in one piece. Told ya you wound end up in my brig, didnt I?" Wulf then starts to walk, and Micah has no choice but to follow along, if only to avoid intense pain in the shoulders.

Manny finishes her water and just sighs softly, tugging on her ponytail and then staring down at her own cleavage for lack of anything else to do at the moment…or maybe she's thinking, who knows.

Gaelan eyes close and he takes a slow deep breath. Holding it for a few moments his eyes open as he exhales the breath. Turning to look at Ramiro he nods, "You did good Corporal." Hooking his thumb towards Manny he comments, "Now go let her know she isn't the cause of this fiasco." Looking around the room he just shakes his head slowly.

Once the duty MP and the pilot on a string are out of sight, Lex orders a drink of her own and goes to find somewhere less intense to drink it. She takes it a couple of seats down.

Roz sets her drink down and looks around at people, "Would someone mind telling me what just went on?" She is looking between those that seemed to be witnesses to the puzzle.

"Thanks, Major." Ramiro replies to Gaelan before turning and stepping back over to Manny. Leaning his side against the bar, facing her, a shot is slid over to him by the bartender who leaves without asking for any payment. Grabbing the shot, Ramiro looks to Manny and smiles. "So…interdepartmental relations are getting better and better every day…"

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