Under the Table
Under the Table
Summary: In the aftermath of an execution, some unfortunate fools from the Genesis find their way into the watering hole on the Carina. Inebriation ensues.
Date: 19 ACH
Related Logs: Execution Marine Style

Having taken the time to change out of a uniform, Salin promptly made his way back to the Carina and through the sports court, to his ultimate destination. The Bar. Once within, he's casting only the briefest of looks around before angling his way over towards the bar. Once there, a hand raps lightly on the top of it to attract a 'tender's attention. "Caprica Whiskey." There's a distinct lack of emotion there and the lawyer gives only a nod of his head to accompany the request.

Gaelan has arrived.

Gaelan steps through the sports area, just far enough behind Salin to not take notice but the Major too has taken the distinct time to get out of those obnoxious Dress Grays which probably have some brain matter on them now and into his off duties. The Marine has found his target and it is well in his sights an available space at the bar. Determined steps find him making a quick path as he catches the tail end of the whiskey order and he quickly follows it up with his own order, "Same thing, double."

Oh, hey. A pair of pilots managed to make it over to the Carina and into the Panther before either flavour of non-flying brass. Imagine that. Of course, only one of them — the one with boobs — is seated at the bar when Salin and summarily Gaelan sidles up. The other is presumably in the head. Or getting he— ambrosia. Or somewhere that's else. But, presumably, Adrastos is in here somewhere. Meanwhile, Jocasta's giving the new arrivals something of a sidelong once-over before she goes back to her lime green kool— ambrosia.

Adrastos returns from the head. Ah, the joys of civilian toilets. You're so much less likely to be waylaid by a drunken Marine all too willing to both ask and tell. He drops down by Jocasta, and says, rather primly, "That looks vile."

Catching an order similar to his, almost immediately after, Salin shifts his attention to the arriving figure of Gaelan. There's a polite note, but no smile this time, "Pieter." He's pausing long enough to accept the small glass from 'tender and it's lifted to his lips, drained in a single serving before it's set back down. A simple tap of a finger is giving for another and then he's turning to look over those at the bar. Jocasta and Adrastos are noted, but his gaze doesn't linger. Rather, it returns back to Gaelan.

In off-duties, Zaharis heads into the bar looking considerably more comfortable than he did in those starch-drenched grays. His fatigues shirt is tossed over his shoulder, boots making the same heavy thuds as everyone else's in here. The noise is welcome.

Gaelan looks to his glass and tilts it up to his lips and instead of a shot he talks an almost collected and calm drink of the whiskey. Passing a glance to Salin he nods, "Salin." Eyes follow Salin’s in time to see the pilots and oh look.. a Doctor. Well this is an interesting trio and the start to a probably really bad joke before he looks back to his glass and picks it up for another sip.

Well, then. Once everyone's done giving everyone else the eye, Jocasta rubs elbows with the only one of the lot willing enough to do so in kind. "This?" she asks, gesturing to the ambrosia by lifting it from the bar and taking a stiff drink from the rim. "You should try it." She not feeling so generous as she was in the observation deck, it seems, and so the sample for Adrastos won't be coming from her own glass but rather from a fresh one all his own. She snaps her fingers at the bartender and barks out a little, "Oy! Bring us another, mate."

Zaharis pre-empts Gaelan, handily. "A doctor, a marine, and a lawyer walk into a bar?" His voice carries towards Gaelan as he steps up to said bar somewhere near the other two Majors, lifting a finger to get the tender's attention. The ugly scarring on his arm and the tattoo that partially covers it is visible tonight, rare occurrence that it is that he has the heavy olive green jacket off.

Another nod of thanks is giving when the second drink is delivered and then Salin is shifting his attention over towards Zaharis. There's a faint smile and he's beginning to shake his head, ever so slightly, "I can't see that ending well at all." His drink is lifted, ever so slightly towards Zaharis, before he's draining it in the same fashion as the first, "How's it going, Doc?" The empty glass is set back on the bar and pushed towards the edge.

The 'tender brings his drink, and Adrastos looks exceedingly dubious. HE does, however, give it a token sip. Man, where'd this guy come from? A seminary? "What's it made out of?" he wonders of Jocasta, raising his gaze to her. "Or do I not want to know?"
Gaelan glances towards Salin then back to Zaharis as he hooks a thumb towards Salin, "Looks like the paperwork finally caught up to him." Lifting his glass as well as simple acknowledgement he takes a slow but measured drink of the whiskey before looking between the two, taking a step back to get a little breathing and discussion room between the three.

Zaharis sets his arms on the bar, glancing at the bottles behind it before ordering a scotch, with ice. He turns around and leans against the counter, giving Salin a nod. "Not altogether bad, Lawman. You?" He lifts his chin towards Gaelan in acknowledgment and reaches over as his glass arrives. "If this were about twenty years and four ranks ago I'd say let's take the paperwork outside and have us a bonfire."

Seems the JAG is intent on his whiskey shots, for the 'tender brings forth another, though Salin doesn't immediately down this one. Rather, he simply rolls the small shot glass between his fingers for a moment before chuckling softly towards Gaelan, "Not quite." He's then looking over towards Zaharis, his shoulders lifting in a slight shrug, "As well as could be expected, I suppose." A drift of his eyes towards his glass and he's giving a slight smile, "It'd be one hell of a bonfire, considering the amount that crosses my desk. But, frak, I gotta say that sounds like a tempting idea, Doc."

Gaelan looks to the JAG and smirks, "The amount on your desk, I think you frakkin’ shove half that crap my way. Of course at the rate I have Engineer's putting holes in my firing range ceiling there is no telling if my frakkin' fire control systems would work on my deck." Shaking his head he looks to his glass then lifts it up and tilts it back draining the half filled glass of whiskey. Shaking his head just slightly he leans forward and slides the glass on the bar motioning for a refill. Oh yes, the joys of alcohol about to create an interesting night.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Jocasta concedes, watching as another shot of ambrosia is poured between her and Adrastos. Once the rim is settled up, the countermeasures officer lifts her half-quaffed brew up in the gesture of an anticipated toast and announces, "To death outside of the hangar bay instead of in."

And Hektor clinks his glass obligingly against Jocasta's, before taking a much bigger and more enthusiastic swallow. He flushes as it burns its way down, and then, rather randomly grins.

Zaharis put some of those holes in that ceiling himself, but he's perfectly willing to let Gaelan think the engineers did it all. He picks up his scotch and takes a swallow that drains most of the glass at a go, with just a slight tensing of his teeth. "Something to dream about then, Salin." He smirks at the JAG. "Every man's got to have one." He digs his cigarette pack from his pocket, tossing it on the bar as a kind of unspoken invitation for all three, fishing one out himself. "You won't mind though if I say I don't envy you worth a frak."

There's a smirk offered towards Gaelan and Salin follows up with a shrug of his shoulders, "Hey, not my fault, Pieter. Between your Marines and the Pilots, I've been burying my legal aides in mindless reports. I was thinking of creating a template. Fill in the blanks and pre-formatted with my signature. Figure it might make our jobs a hell of a lot easier." The shot is lifted to his lips, the contents drained and then he's setting it down, only to reach forward and snag a cigarette from Zah's pack. It's promptly lifted to his lips and he digs around in his pocket, withdrawing a small lighter, "I'd rather dream of other things, but that'll have to do, I suppose." Pausing long enough to light the smoke and return the lighter from where it came, he takes a quick haul before reaching up with his right hand to extract it from between his lips, "Someone's gotta do it, I suppose. Not like I didn't know what I was getting into."

Gaelan shakes his head as he watches the two men light up. Noticing the glass refilled he leans forward and pulls it into his hand and immediately takes a drink before lowering it to rest near his waist, finger idly tapping the edge. The rasped tone comments, "Just simplify the frakkin' laws. You do this, you get this punishment. Plain and frakkin' simple. All this he said, she said crap wastes too much frakkin' time. If they did it, punish them. Stop waiting around trying to see if there is another side to the story." Lifting his glass he takes a sip again and glances around as his weight shifts on his feet.

There's talk of paperwork down the bar that Jo can't help but to overhear. It makes her thankful that her job is considered so simple a trained bear might be able to take her place — that makes for lack of any substantial filing issues to overcome. She nudges her companion gently with an elbow and wonders expectantly, "Well…? What do you think?"

"It's good," Adrastos pronounces, with an oddly childlike dignity, after hastily downing the remainder of his glass. He beams at her, but it's still a little shaky.

"Guilty until proven innocent, Pieter?" Zaharis raises an eyebrow, only half-kidding with the statement. He lights his own cigarette, smoke curling thickly around his hand and up the side of his head. "Make the call without getting the weight on both sides? Thought we were out here fighting robots, not trying to become them."

There's a flicker of his eyes between Gaelan and Zaharis and Salin begins to shake his head slightly, "Not going to happen, Pieter. The laws are there for a reason. To protect people until such time as they are proven guilty." He makes a slight motion towards Zaharis with his free hand, "He's got the right idea. Sure, it's paperwork and it's been a load of unnecessary paperwork, lately, but that's part of the territory. We all know that that." Then, he's offering a faint chuckle, "Just wait till my office finalizes the civilian legal system. You think the Military portion is bad? You havn't seen civil law yet."

Jocasta beams with something akin to pride at Adrastos and intones through her teeth, "We'll make you a lush yet." But, then it's more serious words from down the bar again and she can't help but find herself distracted by the din, brow wrinkling into a momentary fret.

Gaelan glances to the Salin and shakes his head, "Frakkin' great. Just what I need. Civilian Police with more pompous ego's than my Marines and MP's." Looking to his drink he adds, "We better not run out of alcohol if that happens. We are going to need it." Looking up to Zaharis finally he just shrugs, "Field Justice is what I had to live with for two years of my career. If JAG knew half the decisions I had to make then… well…" Pausing he looks over to Salin then back to Z he just lifts his glass, "To a fine career and still knowing which way is up."

Civil law. "So lawyers are like cockroaches," Adrastos sighs, into his empty glass, before he shoves it away to be refilled. Jo gets a sheepish grin. "You think so?"

"I've got dibs on whatever still engineering can mock up." Zaharis raises his glass back to Gaelan and downs the rest of the liquor, motioning to the tender for a refill. He takes a drag off the cigarette and gives Salin a toothy grin. "That's too frakked up for me. We've got enough on our hands every time a civilian sneezes. If one of them gets it in their heads that malpractice suits are fair game, I can tell you right now what dark place my boot might end up."

Another smirk, though it's quickly blocked as Salin lifts the cigarette to his lips for a quick drag. Lowering it, he's giving a slight shrug towards Gaelan, "What can I say. Civilians have rights as well. And, trust me, we want them to at least feel somewhat safe, 'specially since we're going to need to draw on them at some point." The comment about field justice is allowed to pass. Best not to ask question on that. Turning his attention to Zaharis, there's a slight grin, "Best of luck, Doc. But, I doubt you'll need to worry about malpractice suits. I'm really not all that keen on my office wasting time on those types of suits."

The one and only word out of Jocasta's mouth is, "Definitely." and, interestingly enough, it seems to serve as sufficiently appropriate reply both to Adrastos's statement and inquiry. That's called 'two birds with one stone', boys and girls.

Adrastos looks merely weary and cynical, that aura of good nature dissolving in the fog of alcohol. But he downs another ambrosia, rather than launch into a tirade about lawyers. Give thanks to the Gods, kids.

Gaelan nods to Zaharis as he comments, "It's ok he will be too busy with the civilian spats when the Marines get into fights with them. You think Marines and pilots are a bad mix, let some civvie start popping off after a combat mission." Looking over to the lawyer he finally has to ask, "So where the frak is that other JAG officer… Lieutenant Isabeau? I haven't seen her around in a while."

Zaharis exhales a long column of smoke up towards the ceiling, picking up his new glass when the second scotch arrives. "Try not to break them, Pieter." His eyes flicker to Salin at Gaelan's question, he not being JAG's keeper.

There's a faint smirk at Gaelan's comment and Salin merely gives a shake of his head, "Let’s hope not. But, we'll deal with that when it arises, I suppose. Hopefully, both sides will have the sense just to settle it over a couple of drinks, without it coming to blows." The question about Isabeau draws a faint chuckle, "She's off trying to secure a townhouse for JAG. Once civil law is put in, we're going to need somewhere to use as a 'courthouse' and office. Can't be bringing civilians to PAS and Genesis." There's another drag off the cigarette and he blinks slightly, "Oh, and Isabeau is a Captain now."

Gaelan nods slowly, "Well send her my congratulations then. I think Regas finally ran out of Major clusters to hand out." Lifting the drink he takes a heavy drink from it and looks over to Zaharis and then down to his arm and just states, "What's the story."

"The minions are moving up in droves," Zaharis declares with a smirk. "Yes, send her congratulations and all that. If she can even hear you behind the paper wall." He completely misses where Gaelan was looking, his eyes meeting the others’. "Story on what?"

"I think Regas' had a quota to fill or something. Me and Raul must have been the end of it. 'least till he moves a couple more of up to Colonel and frees up some more clusters." There's a faint smile and Salin is giving a nod to both Zah and Gaelan, "I'll pass that along. As for that paper wall… well, that's why we have two offices. Heck, maybe we'll get a third. Spread all that stuff out. Either that, or I'm going to have to move our filing cabinets somewhere else."

"You're not flyin' out early, are ya, Hek?" asks his swarthy-skinned friend, perhaps expressing concern that stems from her companions apparent enthusiasm for this new game called inebriation. "…'cause I don't wanna have to carry you back to the bird."

Gaelan motions to the arm with his free hand, "The arm. What's the story?" Passing a glance to Salin as he talks about his paper walls he just smirks and takes another sip slowly. Lookin back to Zaharis curious by this find.

"Nope. I got leave," Adrastos says, though perhaps without quite the enthusiasm that announcement'd seem to deserve. Someone's gonna be haunted by that execution, oh, yes.

Zaharis glances at the scar. "Sagittaron, my second enlisted tour." He sips his scotch and reaches over to tap his cigarette against the ashtray. "Got stabbed by a militia guy who was out of his mind on stims, frakker near broke everyone in the place. Nearly put my partner through the wall."

There's a shift of attention from Gaelan to Zaharis and Salin merely raises a brow at the story before he begins to shake his head, "Frak. Sounds like one hell of a time." The cigarette is finished and then butted out on the sole of his shoe before he's setting it down atop of the bar for a moment, "And enlisted? Joined the fleet as a Non-Com did you?"

Gaelan nods slowly as he looks to the wound, pursing his lips in a form of assessment then looking up, "New found respect for you there Doc. What the frak had you crazy enough to be enlisted?" Looking to Salin briefly he nods in agreement to the questions as he takes a slow sip.

"Nineteen years ago," Zaharis answers Salin. "Frak, we're all getting old." He snorts, getting a last drag straight down to the filter on his cigarette and stubbing it out. Smoke curls from his mouth as he answers Gaelan. "I'd try to be all patriotic but I hate lying. Truth is it was only because the alternatives were even more frakked." He looks at both of them. "Two of you came in as officers?" If they get to be curious, so does he.

There's a chuckle in reply and Salin gives a quick nod of his head, "Ya, don't mention that, please. I see some of these new recruits coming in and I just shake my head, thinking back to when I joined." The rest of the story is listened and he's nodding again, "Ya, only way you can join JAG as a lawyer is with a degree in law. Gets you the rank of Lieutenant. Enlisted in JAG are legal aides, no real law training."

Gaelan shrugs slowly, "Legacy Fleet. Dad was an Admiral, His Dad an Admiral and so forth. I was the rogue Marine. Top of the class in the Academy." Shrugging slowly he lifts his glass and takes a slow sip then lowers it as he continues, "Babysitting sessions until my Dad retired then I went Special Forces and lived in combat for nearly two years straight. Then here I am. Ta da." The arms lift in mocking celebration to his reader's digest of his life story.

For a fistful of so-called geezers, they sure do more than their fair share of cursing. Of course, "old" people are supposed to get allowances for that sort of thing, right? "In that case, go nuts." Jocasta casts an arm around her companion's shoulders and gives the pilot a bit of a friendly squeeze before she adds in a voice loud enough to be easily overheard, "But… if you start stabbing people I'm going to let the Major over there take you home."

Adrastos gives Jocasta a look positively bovine in its mildness. He splays fingers over his heart, and all but bats his eyelashes. "Stab? Me? Never," he demurs, eyes wide and dewy. "I'm entirely peaceable, when I'm out of the cockpit. I reserve my ire for the toaster folk entirely," he says, in his poshest Caprican accent.

Zaharis huhs at Gaelan. "Ta da, no kidding. Impressive." He looks back at Salin, briefly lifting his chin in acknowledgment. "So how's someone that does all that time in law school decide to give it all to the fleet? There had to have been more money in chasing ambulances or something."

A brow is raised to Gaelan and Salin is giving an appraising nod, "Wow. Nice, Pieter." The question from Zaharis has Salin chuckling and when he looks back, he gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, "Funny you mention that, Jesse. I had intended to open a private practice, along with Isabeau. We went to the same law school. But …" He trails off and gives a shrug followed by a smile. Seems he's not elaborating on that, right now. "Plus, Old man was career JAG. A Colonel with the Caprica Office, so I joined up and got posted there. Spent a couple years in advance law training and ended up writing several books on Military and Civil law. Found myself enjoying it and tossed the idea of a private practice aside."

Gaelan shrugs slowly, "I guess so. It's just my life path. Nothing amazing about it. Kind of pissed that I had to waste so much time being babysat because my Dad was meddling." Looking between the two he grins to Salin, "Well that explains a lot. Of course I think I like her a little better. She definitely has some Marine blood in her." The glass gets drained then slid on the bar as he looks towards Zaharis, "Well I did have to live near Reed for most of my childhood, so maybe this was my escape to get away from him." Grinning to the Doctor.

Zaharis snorts at Gaelan. "Get away. Yeah, I think that's what you Marines call a 'tactical error'." He grins at the Major and finishes off this second scotch, giving Salin a nod. "Ah, I see. Damned if I know how you people survive law school. Medical school was bad enough, and at least we got to play with…well, I probably shouldn't get too detailed in a place where people are eating."

There's a none-too-soft beeping from Salin's person and he grumbles softly before withdrawing a hand held from his pocket. It's reviewed and he's giving a shake of his head, "Well, doesn't that figure. Yet another case that needs my attention. At least, it's here on the Carina." He's pushing off from the bar, eyes flickering between Gaelan and Zaharis, "Going to need to see both of you in an official capacity in the next day or so. Concerns the other prisoners and preparations that need to be made." He's leaving it at that and it's only now that he turns to look towards Jocasta and Adrastos, "This Major certainly doesn't want to have to take anyone, anywhere. Bad things happen when I'm involved." He lifts a hand, pointing to Zaharis and Gaelan, "They'll be happy to entertain him, though." Both are giving a smile and as he shrugs off from the bar, he looks back towards Gaelan and Zah, "Catch you guys later. Providing I don't drown in papers."

Salin has left.

Gaelan looks over to Adrastos at Salin's comment and points to the glass, "What the frak is that thing?" Looking from Jocasta then back to Adrastos, "Are you letting her decide your drinks? By the gods…" Looking back to Zaharis he just shakes his head, "That is just scary. Never seen more colors in one drink… well…" Looking back over to the drink, "…ever.

Zaharis glances over his shoulder at the pilot and his drink, raising both brows. "Think pilots choose their drinks based on what their faces look like after a punch?" It's good-natured, and he smirks at Jocasta and Adrastos before looking back at Gaelan. "Alright, Pieter, I ought to follow Salin into the black. Shift comes up fast these days."

Adrastos. Docile. "Riiight," drawls the Aerelonian officer, as if she certainly wasn't of a mind to buy what the younger man happened to be selling, despite their previous acquaintance. But, hey. With the JAG is retreat and his doctor -boy-friend seemingly soon to follow, Pieter Gaelan's been left with no one nearby to harass except for a pair of pilots. Jocasta's attention is earned easily enough as she defends her friend with, "Perhaps you might want to throttle back then, sir. They only make one colour 'a ambrosia."

Hektor looks up, still mildly. "She knows drinks, I don't," he says, simply. "And this seems good thus far. In fact, you should try it," He offers Gaelan his own glass, apparently guilelessly.

Zaharis has left.

Gaelan chuckles and shakes his head, lifting his ambered whiskey, "I prefer to stick with real drinks. I will save the colorful ones for the ladies, regardless of how good they are." Looking between the two he just grins at Jocasta, "That color is not natural for alcohol, so it's all sorts of wrong."

"'S the color the gods decided to make it, sir," or so Jocasta imagines. Sure, there's probably a heavy hand of man bit in there somewhere and a clever marketing gimmick really to blame for ambrosia's lime green glow but, really. "Who'm I ta argue?" That's right. And, in reverence for such a wise decision, Jo downs the last of her glass and then puts her tongue on display to confirm that, yes, in fact, it does leave its mark on the drinker in more ways than one. She then erupts into a chortling laugh and nudges Adrastos to have a look at the naysayer. "Not man enough for ambrosia, maybe…" Hark! A challenge.

"It's all sorts of GOOD," asserts Hektor, feathers perhaps a bit ruffles. "And you should TRY IT." Oh, here comes the belligerence. Nevermind that Hektor has the wiry apparent lack of strength of someone who spent way too much time over the scriptures and too little time in the gym.

Lex has arrived.

Gaelan steps up towards the two and drains the remainder of his glass, sliding it's empty embracing shape on the bar. Looking between the two his rasped voice comments, "Fine." Holding his hand up, "But on the condition that you try my drink first." A glance to the bartender, "Three shots of whiskey, straight up. They decide to stay standing after that. Then I will try the frakkin green crap they were drinking." Looking back to the two he cocks an eyebrow to them both, "Really want to start a drinking contest with a Marine?"

An off duty private strides into the bar muttering about something to do with airy fairies with scriptures jammed halfway up their strata chocolatas, pulls her hair out of the ponytail it's in, combs her fingers through it, and bellies up to the bar. The rubber band from her hair snaps sharply as she pops it onto her wrist. Lex bellies up to the bar calling out a drink order, "Scotch."

Jocasta's chosen reply? More enthusiastic laughter. He must not be able to read her name badge from over there. No worries. What the Major doesn't know is likely to liberate him of more than a few cubits tonight, perhaps. Whiskey? No worries. She's born and bred of the folks who probably did their fair share of brewing it. Jocasta bellies up to the bar and waits for her round to get laid down. "I'm willing to put a pair of cubits on it," she says, keeping an eye on Gaelan from the side.

"I won't bet, but I will drink," Adrastos says, that annoying priestly serenity/smugness reappearing on his face. "Very well." He even folds his hand primly on the bartop.

Gaelan chuckles and shrugs, "Fine then. Whatever will keep you happy there Pilot." Picking up his glass with the whiskey he looks to them and quickly ticks it back, sliding the empty glass on the bar he looks to them and waits patiently. Pretty sure he is going to have to sport a green drink for a short time. Damn women.

With her face halfway into her drink, Lex glances over and happens to note her CO is in the room. She doesn't so much gurgle into her liquor as drain the glass quickly, and thunk it onto the bar. Gonna need another drink for this. She waves to the bartender and points to her glass.

While Jocasta may very well have been bathed in whisky as a small child (due to her impoverished Aerelon upbringing, of course — in the choice between buying water or whisky, well, what can ya do?), it doesn't quite prepare her for the sensation that comes with what feels like walking open-mouthed into a cloud of campfire smoke. She coughs. "Ugh… on purpose? You drink this stuff on purpose? Gods!" And then, as is written in the annals of friendship, she offers the rest of her glass to Hektor and says, "Here. Taste this!" Does this milk taste bad to you?

Adrastos sips it first. And then frankly swills it. "It's like camping," he says, utterly blithe about it. "I get more. I mean….." And then, the burning. Hektor looks first shocked…..and then almost obscenely content. Like afterglow, only without all the sweating and grunting and pleading, first.

Gaelan grins and points to Jocasta, "Thought so. So no girly frakkin' drink for me." Motioning to the bartender he comments, "Another shot for me, the Marine hiding behind me and then I am done." Glancing to Lex it's just brief before turning back to the pilots as he looks to her, "Yes. I drink it. Very regularly and it doesn't all taste that way, but it was either that or drink a frakkin' miscolored drink and that wasn't happening."

"Well, excuse me for likin' somethin' tha' doesn' taste like live fire, mate!" Jojo's not gonna stand there and let ambrosia be dogged by the likes of some egotistical Marine who hates his own tongue! "Ya know, gods' is gonna cutcha down you keep bad-mouthin' their brew. Don't you know what ambrosia is, mate? Nectar 'a the gods, right!" Oh, man. This is, technically, her third drink of the evening and so, by now, her normally sedate accent has started to show it's ragged edges as she drawls on in defense of her alcohol of choice. "Jinxin' yourself, sure."

Gaelan picks up the shotglass of whiskey and takes a quick drink of it as he looks to the Pilot. "We will do this again and see if you can actually hold your own for once." Glancing to Lex he motions to the pilots, "Drink them under the table." Without another word he turns and heads towards the hatch, is that a little sway in his step. It seems the alcohol was starting to catch up after all.

Gaelan has left.

"I think that's cheating," Hektor notes, sounding rather hurt. But the whiskey's so good, and he goes nosing around for it. More to be had…..which leaves the pilot sighing, and swaying a little on his seat.

Lex nods to Gaelan as she's spotted and acknowledged. She doesn't say anything, however, until she's instructed thusly. "Yessir," the marine shakes her head a little after the CO is gone. "You mind ducking under the table real quick so I didn't just lie to my CO? I only wanted two." She raises her second glass and grins.

Oh, what the hell. Sure. Why not. Jocasta's just drunk enough to find some humour in it and, thus, it's in a good-spirited manner that she once again puts an arm around her companion's shoulders and says to him, "Care to join me on the floor?" It'll be good for a laugh, at any rate. Of course, the real giggle will be in seeing if Adrastos has actually retained enough equilibrium to stand of his own accord…

Which he has. Just….not for long. Hektor goes over like a felled pine tree, rather than swooning gracefully like a corseted belle.

Lex leans against the bar, watching the two Ensigns, with a little smile. Sweet mercy, they look pretty toasty already—maybe it wouldn't be such a chore to actually put them under the table first! But… as she said, she just wanted the two drinks. She peers over to see if she needs to assist by using a boot to shove the male Ensign under the actual table. She raises her drink to the two. "Huzzah!"

Jocasta isn't one to be drunk under the table without a drink in hand, and so there she is, Hektor pulled halfway into her lap, ambrosia toasted to Lex with an easy sort of smirk scrawled over her lips. Once her green dream is drained, she can't help be regard her companion with something of a mother's grin and says to Lex, "Biddable as a shepherd's dog, innee?" To prove her point, she gives his shoulder a little prod. Roll over.

Adrastos does roll over. He's semiconscious, but eminently happy. Especially with the whole lap thing. Lex gets a drunken and cheerful burble. Presumably a benediction, by the gesture of blessing Hektor makes.

Lex laughs, and sips her drink, savoring this one. "Yeah, but if all he can do is play dead, I'm not sure you're gonna get much of a price for him." She eyes the swooning drunk critically. "Is he breathing?"

Breathing? "Less find out, eh?" Jocasta's very scientific method for determining this comes in the form of a swift and sudden (and surprisingly strong) smack to the backside, as if Adrastos were a newborn and this was to be his first breath of life.

He doesn't wail. He just grunts, startled into something like full wakefulness. "Shouldn't we be in quarters before you start that kinna thing?" Hektor wonders, mildly.

A smirk answers the little under-the-table show. Lex finishes up her drink, once again salutes the pilots with it, and notes, "You're drunk and under a table, my suggestion got you there. Mission accomplished. Man, I'll get a promotion yet!" She winks to the pilots, widely grins, settles her tab, and turns for the hatch. Rack time, baby.

"You wish," drawls Jocasta, presumably to Hektor but possibly to Lex… but, only if the intention is to take offense at something and start a fight. Meanwhile, Jo seems to have had her fill of swill for the night, and so she's crawling out from underneath the table and dutifully doing her best to help Adrastos up and on to his feet so that she might be able to take the most complicated and disorienting walk ever back to the shuttle pool and get the poor guy back to his bunk before his boots in public. "Nice ta meetcha," she tosses to Lex, despite having never actually been introduced or much met.

Adrastos reels after Jocasta, making a little whimpering sound like a lost puppy. My tongue, what has happened to my tongue? And my head.

"Nico," Lex tosses back with a backward wave. Apparently at least this marine doesn't have it in for all pilots! Unless they act like jerks. No jerks present, or the liquor suitably lubricated the social situation. And thus, crisis avoided. Drink on!

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