Stinger’s head thumped loudly on the round wooden table in front of him, jolting him awake. Around him, the tavern was quiet. Closing time wasn’t a thing when there was alcohol to be served, and Legion splices coming in and out all the time. But there were slow times, between shifts changing, and regiments being sent out on patrols or missions. Not that it mattered to Stinger much these days. A bar was a bar. It had alcohol. And fuck the Legion. He’d lost almost everything because of the shit he had to do for them.
Life in the Legion wasn’t kind, and they didn’t encourage the soldiers to have families on the outside. Your squad was your family, until either you or they died. If they died, you got a new squad. If you died, they got another soldier in to replace you. The joys of war. You could fuck almost anyone in the Legion if you wanted to, if they were willing. Or there were always the brothels that followed the outposts around.
The Legion didn’t care either way. Fuck who you want. Fight who you want. Just be ready to go where you’re told, kill who you’re told to or die trying. Live through the shit, get patched up with mid-grade RegeneX, and start all over again. Get good at it and they might even promote you. Just don’t fall in love. That was a big no-no.
“Thought I told you to fuck off.” he slurred heavily at the blur on the other side of the table. The blur separated itself in two, and they moved around the table towards him from either side. Drunkenly, Stinger wobbled in his chair as he reached for his gun, but it dropped to the dirty tavern floor with a loud clatter.
“Easy boss,” pleaded the blur that sounded like Jax. “Major said to come pick you up.” “Fuck off, ye chocco. Aint going nowhere. Won’t tell ye again.” Stinger ordered, almost passing out again. Jax nodded to Roman, who picked up Stingers gun, and they hoisted him up, slinging his arms over their shoulders and hauling him outside. It was some time just before dawn, and the rain was coming down like a thousand-foot waterfall. Stinger coughed and spluttered angrily as they left the cover of the awning in front of the tavern. “It’s-god-damn-fucking-pissing-down-stair-rods!” snapped Stinger. “The fuck ye trying to do ta me?” “Easy boss,” Jax repeated. “Taking you for a ride in the jumper, is all.”
Roman just groaned wearily as he and Jax hauled Stinger into the blue grav-beam. “I’ll fucking kick ye outta my squad for this.” “Yeah boss,” Jax sighed, resignedly. “You do that.” Stinger mumbled incoherently and passed out as they rose up the beam towards one of the Legions many runabouts. The portal door slid silently closed and the soldiers carefully lay Stinger down on the floor. “Fuck it, leave him here to sleep it off.” Roman said to Jax, who nodded in agreement.
“Major’s gonna have his balls for breakfast.” commented Roman as he hit the safety switch for the portal hole. “What balls?” asked Jax, shaking his head sadly. “He lost them a century ago, when he disappeared.” “Yeah, I know. What a waste though. He was a good Corporal up until then. Fucking defective lycantant. Wish they’d never picked that one up.” “Mmhm,” agreed Jax, walking away towards the bridge. Stinger snored loudly behind the on the cold steel floor of the ship.
Just before closing the airlock between the portal bay and the cargo bay, Roman turned to watch Stinger curiously as the bee-splice yammered unconsciously, raising an eyebrow when he heard the missing Lycantant’s name. “Heartbreak’s a bitch, Boss.” He whispered quietly to passed-out splice, and pushed the control switch to close the lock.