When Oldiwan and I were closing out chapter 15 of A Point of Honor there was a section where military rivalry came up. The Dog finished that piece up with a reference to a future bar fight. That night I wrote a couple of sentences and thought I would get back to it later.

Today with my work on chapter 17 out of the way I went back and it almost wrote itself. I would have sent it to the Old one for a review but he hasn’t been on tonight. So any or all of our readers see it before he does. I will use it again as a short story in Cardoman Space and in a novel chapter. I use everything as many times as the law allows. Hope you like it Oldiwan! and feel free to write an alternate version. -–Wes

The Bar Fight

The Wanderlust docked hard with Cardoman’s High Station and for the troops brought back up from the planet liberty commenced. Sgts Jeff Jeffries and Jimmy Calagan were among the first off. A harried petty officer was at his end of the docking tube with a list and a stylus to check ID’s and waved them away almost without a second glance.

“Hey Chief, any action on this berg?”

Bored eyes now looked up; he’d heard the question a half a hundred times and said “Two decks down and starboard. Watch your step.”

A gangling kid of about 20, near as he could tell left the table and Jeff sat down before saying, “Hey girl mind if I join you?” She looked up and Jeff was surprised at how genuinely interested her greeting was. Things could be looking up.

“Sure soldier, you must be new in from Triocat. Tell me how was it?”

“Well Darlin’ wasn’t easy. What ya looking at?” Jeffries could tell by the fatigues that she was some kind of military but the light was dim enough and the alcohol kicking in enough that he couldn’t make out the small insignia on her shoulder from across the table. Whatever it was she was too young to be very high up on the food chain.

“This?” The girl said closing down the screen on the table in front of her, “Just looking over some of the systems Ryman has incorporated into their ship design. Some of the technical details are fascinating.”

“Holy smokes girl! You better watch yourself. All that stuff is top secret or higher!”

“Yeah thanks, I wasn’t thinking about that.”

There was a brief commotion at the bars entranceway and two large men entered. One dominating by his mere presence. They walked directly to the table and sat down. And one of them Jeffries could recognize at once. General Robert T, Davis, the other was a Colonel wearing a Cardoman Seventh uniform with a small pin that seemed to indicate the wearer had once won the Cardoman Medal of Valor. “Just what have I gotten myself into now?” the Sergeant wondered barely this side of panic.

Raising his hand for an order of drinks General Davis looked at Jeffries and said, “And who might you be son?”

“Jeffries Sir, just in from Triocat via Novi and off of the Wanderlust.” He wanted to stand and salute but his legs were failing him.

“Heard some good things about your unit. I’m Robbie Davis and the Colonel here is Fader Jameson. We were just going over your after action reports and would be happy to hear about it first hand.”

“More than happy to oblige Sir!,” the panic now being replaced by an emotion he couldn’t quite name but nearly as unpleasant. “As I was telling the young lady—”

“The young lady? You’re not on a first name basis yet?” Davis said this in his gravely base/baritone.

“Well no sir. Though I think we were getting there,” and Jeffries smiled while becoming more sure of himself.

“Then let me do the honors son. The young lady here is Captain Audie Madry, formerly from the Seventh now detached to the Navy and in charge of the Perseus. You probably saw her ship when you docked.”

“Fine looking ship Ma’am,” he managed to say in spite of the near paralysis from the blood rushing to his head that was giving his face a rosy red glow. He heard a noise and was the last at the table to look toward where it came from.

Cardoman High was a combination civilian and military establishment. With a number of restaurants and bars this was the most popular and served all comers. Between the rooms long bar proper was a strip of real hardwood that doubled as a dance floor. Then came a carpeted buffer before tables and the rest of the room.

With the Wanderlust docked and liberty called most of the stools in front were filled with Rymans, veterans all but new to the current Cardoman culture. And they were not shy about past accomplishments. Inevitably words were said and territory staked out. Here there is a line one does not cross. Well, and predictably it did get crossed.

Jimmy Calagan struck the bottle on the edge of the bar twice with no effect. The third time it bounced and grazed his forehead. “Dammit, Plastic!” He was doing this for effect only but it always seemed to work in the videos. After that there was a lot of jostling and a flashing light showing a call to security had been made, and of course noise, always the noise. He didn’t remember much else.

“Want me to break it up Robbie?” Fader Jameson asked with a smile.

“Let em go Fader. They earned it and will pay the price when the MP’s arrive. And anyway—if I were younger—no I was never that young, least not to own up to. Can’t see as how much damage gets done in the interim.”

Audie Madry watched with obvious interest. “Good move,” she said to the sound of a breaking chair leg

Jeffries watched from the corner of his eye only, gaze averted and concentrating on his drink, figuring the least said the better. As the battle went fore and back, the outcome in doubt he thought, “Coulda’ been worse, coulda’ been me.”

Next morning, as the only one in his section with rank and available for the task, Sgt Jeffries was summoned to his company offices and told to collect the wounded. After he left the ship he was grinning from ear to ear. Making up for last night and much loss of sleep. Presenting his ID and orders he was whisked into the holding tank.

“Where were you when we needed you Jeff? One or two more and we would have kicked their asses from here to Sunday! I saw you go over and sit with the short broad in the high class seats. Tell me she was on her meds, cause you sure as hell didn’t score!”

“Well Jimmy my boy, I could tell you all about it—but then, as they say, I’d have to kill you, and that wouldn’t look so good on your record now would it—Private Calagan? What with all the rest of your troubles anything else would just be piling on now wouldn’t it?” And he escorted them back to the Wanderlust for the certain meeting with Lieutenant de La Torrance.