Post by Admin on Apr 7, 2016 23:39:11 GMT
Julia, Interrupted
Postby FSF Eris » Wed Sep 05, 2012 11:10 pm
Julia always kept three weapons in her desk. One was the Roman weapon of choice for valour and words: a beautiful real-book copy of the Aeneid, which detailed the glorious establishment of her family, the Iulii, by their goddess-born ancestor, and his noble, selfless choices to which all Romans aspired.
The second was a phaser, because for as much fun as it might have been to keep a well-used gladius stuck to the side of her desk, and for as much as Julia liked a good blade, if one of her crew decided to mutiny or someone like, say, the Tzenkethi prisoners, decided to come challenge her to a battle to spice up the afternoon, a gladius was not going to get her anywhere, and when Julia actually wanted someone dead, she preferred them quite dead, not holding their intestines in place in the corner of the Ready Room.
The third was a bottle of some ridiculously expensive scotch, and a glass that fit neatly with it. The glass was tall, and the scotch burned, and it was just about the best weapon she had in her arsenal.
She mentally kicked herself. No. She hadn't resorted to wreaking a little havoc with that weapon in a long while, and she wasn't about to change that all because she was having a bad day, woke up to find some godsawful Klingon variant instead of proper coffee, and had not heard back from her security team in several hours. Lilah had dispatched a search detail, but the crew in charge of managing Cosa was bungling the matter. Granted, it probably meant that Atton found some local wildlife and was busy seducing it, training Jericho as he went and using Madison for a wing-woman.
It was possible that she had made a mistake in letting him lead an away mission so soon after his latest censure. Julia had hated to do it, truly, but the man needed a sharp warning -- something that would make him to think before he acted rashly. Besides, if Julia had not been the one to punish him, she was well aware that, back at Headquarters--
Klaxons sounded, shrill and piercing, interrupting her bad coffee and reverie. What in hells...