La Habanera, Persephone


Journey's brief visit, like as not, turns into a more-protracted-than-expected chat with Tommy. When she emerges, probably encouraged by the sound of raised voices... Connie is stood just inside the door. In her way is a tall, lean woman in what appears to be Alliance everyday uniform, blonde hair scraped back from her face in a severe pony tail. Connie's expression is just in the process of going from shock to deadly calm. "Would you care to repeat that?"


Journey pushes through the kitchen doors and moves to recover the kitbag... and freezes next to the bar at the sight of Connie talking to an Alliance-uniformed blonde. Talking is probably too mild a word, though... there's an intensity in the air that could be cut with a knife and carried on a plate.

She begins to edge closer, drawing a pair of round-lensed sunglasses from her jacket and slipping them on. Her eyes stray to Connie... she's never seen the diminutive captain so worked up. So /cold/... Then she looks at the Alliance woman, hoping against hope she's not recognized...


The blonde woman matches gazes with Connie. This close, Journey can see her name tag - "Maj. K. Briggs". She draws herself up, about a head taller than Connie. "I asked you whether you had anything to do with your father's death."


Connie's right fist clenches. "I had nothing to do with Don Slayton's. I had nothing to do with my father's. Even if it wasn't an accident." She draws in a slow breath. "No, we didn't speak to each other. And yes, you are quite right. I was courtmartialled. And I'm sure it hurt him. We didn't speak from that day on." Green eyes hold Major Briggs'. "But. He. Was. Still. My. Father."


"There's an awful lot of coincidences surrounding you and two deaths... both of people you knew, and who were in the service with you. I gave up on coincidences a long time ago," Briggs replies, her eyes seeming to harden further, if that's possible. "There may have come a time when personal ties mattered a good deal less than they once did." An eye takes in Connie's hardware. "You travel well armed for someone so innocent, Captain Saint... expecting trouble?"


Journey watches the interplay for several moments, liking it less and less. She pauses for a long moment, then turns and walks back through the kitchen doors. Time for a little Rim-provisation...


Connie's fist clenches and unclenches. "Give it a rest, Major. I'm not the person you want." She shakes her hair back in an angry toss. "Yes, I'm expecting trouble. Two people who were connected with my time in the Alliance are dead. And according to you, neither was an accident. I'd be an idiot to walk around Persephone unarmed."


The Major arcs one sharply-defined eyebrow. "That's interesting... I'd consider it idiotic to walk around Persephone with a weapon that's borderline illegal... but perhaps that's just my discipline talking." She indicates the sawed-off scattergun almost indolently. "Take care that that half-legal hackjob doesn't explode in your face."


About then, Journey walks up. She's tied an apron on over her clothes and shed her jacket, making her look a lot like La Habanera's waitresses. The electronic order pad completes the image nicely. "Good afternoon, ma'am, ma'am," she says, brightly, nodding to the Major, then Connie, as is she couldn't tell in the tiniest way that they're practically at each other's throats. "And welcome to La Habanera! How may I help you today?" she concludes, with a bright, almost winsome smile, doing her best to sound as perky and vacuous as possible...


<and then Connie completely aces a roll>

<SKILL ROLL> - Connie rolls Bureaucratics with a modifier of 0. Result: 24


Connie smiles. "It's legal, Major." It's not a nice smile. "Alliance regulation 435/5 subsection 4, personal side arms. I can assure you that the barrel on this *is* under 12" long, and I do NOT have it loaded with hollow-point or similar ammunition." One hand runs through red hair. "And while we're at it, if you're not about to produce a warrant for my arrest, along with your credentials as an Alliance law enforcement officer, may I remind you that as per section 831 of the military code, I'm a civilian, and this is harassment."


Major Briggs' eyes narrow, and she looks round La Habanera, blue eyes landing on Journey for a moment, before she's dismissed with a disappointed 'tsk', and she turns back to Connie. "Tell your 'friend'..." There's potential innuendo in that choice of word. "That she'd be wiser not to consort with a traitor like you."


Journey stares at the Major for a moment of stunned silence. "What... what are you talking about?" she says, sounding as vacuous as she'd been trying to sound before... but this time it's without effort. "I'm not... she's..." She sputters to a halt, her mind locking up for the moment.


Connie's fist lashes out, a surprisingly quick punch that hits Major Briggs smack on the point of the jaw. She staggers back, nearly stays upright, but winds up flat on her ass in the doorway.


Journey takes a step back involuntarily, with a shriek, as Connie moves, faster than Journey's ever seen her move... and then the Major's on her rump, blocking the doorway and stunned. "Wha-!" she says, quite cleverly, and elects to shut up for now.


Connie bends, grabs a fistful of Kerri's collar. "Now you listen to me." Will or no, the Major gets hauled half up, till she's nose to nose with the bending Connie. "You want to suspect me of stuff, fine. You want a low opinion of me for disobeying an order in combat, that's just peachy, too. You want to call me a traitor, I draw the line. Get the hell out of here, go find Gene Lovell, and ask him what we were carrying over Shadow. Then you can come back and we can have a civilised conversation."


Journey stares at Connie, wondering what on earth could prompt anyone to call /her/ a traitor... and she slowly smiles, as she takes in what Connie's done, and respects her all the more, if her eyes can be believed. Likely, they can.


Still, it fades after a moment, and she looks at Connie in something akin to worry. "Connie... are you sure that was such a good idea?"


Major Briggs' butt hits the floor again with an 'uff' as Connie lets her go, and she looks up at Connie for a moment, before slowly getting to her feet. "You're on." Tautly. "If I find you've been bullshitting me, Saint, next time I don't waste time talking."


Connie, flexing knuckles which are going to bruise, just looks back at her. Quiet, deceptively calm. "Don Slayton didn't pick idiots. He taught me most of what I know about command. I don't think you're one. Go."


Journey looks at the Major more coldly. "And, Major? Don't provoke trouble here again. I'm sure the manager will agree with me when I say that if you cause any more trouble, we'll have to ask you not to come back. You understand, of course."


Neither of them gets a response: Kerri turns on her heel, and lets the door fall shut behind her as she leaves.


Connie watches the closed door for a moment or two, before she lets out a slow, slightly shaky breath, and turns to Journey, still rubbing at her knuckles. "Uh... sorry about that."


Journey shrugs, stripping off the apron, and wrapping it around the order pad. "It's nothing... trouble comes when it comes, and you just gotta hope you see it coming. I just wish I'd thought things through a little better..." she says, looking down at her disguise sadly.


Connie mms, and leans against the wall for a moment, clearly a touch shaken up now it's passed. "I hope I'm right."


Journey glances at Connie again, concern replacing her earlier sadness. "Do you need to sit down? Do you feel faint?" she asks, moving to assist if Connie seems to need it. "Please, let me know if you need anything."


Connie shakes her head. "I'm fine." She runs a hand through red hair again. "I don't think she's bad." A sigh. "She was Don Slayton's personal bodyguard, and ... I think she thinks she's failed, and she needs to find a reason."


Journey looks at the door and nods, soberly. "Maybe we'd better get back to the ship... we seem to be drawing a lot of unwanted attention today." She turns back to the kitchen, to deal with the borrowed items and reclaim her own.


Connie nods. She waits for Journey to emerge from the kitchen again, and hugs her hard. "C'mon."


Journey reemerges in a minute, wearing her jacket again and carrying the kitbag. The hug takes her completely by surprise, and she makes a startled sound, dropping the kitbag. After a moment, she seems to relax into the hug. "Mmmmm..." she murmurs, "Inna second..."


Connie rests her head on Journey's shoulder for a moment, before smiling up at her from a distance of about two inches. "Thanks."


Journey smiles gently. "Nothing to it... I'm not sure who benefitted more! C'mon, we'd better go. Poor Shin's probably wondering if we're down here drunk off our backsides... and with Miss Mila's clothes, too!" She catches up the kitbag, with some effort, and leads the way to the door.


<and meanwhile on the docks>


Coming towards you from the Commons is a blonde woman, hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. She's wearing Alliance Marines shipboard uniform, with, if you look closely, a tag reading "Maj. K Briggs" over her left breast. She looks a mix of upset and pissed off, and is fingering her jaw, which is starting to develop a bruise. She heads for the shuttle terminal, not paying attention to anyone.