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Aberrant: Stargate Universe - Officiers are Arseholes


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[following on from Dec and Gwyn's departure in Too Smart]

Gwyn paused breifly at the exit of the canteen, just catching a glimpse of Dec as he turned the corner. Still muttering Arabic curses directed at Omar under his breath he accelerates after the Sergeant. Reaching the corner he calls after him, "Sgt Perault, can I have a word?"

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He slowed his pace, allowing Gwyn to catch up, but he didn't stop and didn't turn to look at the Welsh Specialist.

"What's the word, Gwyn?" Dec was angry, and it resonated in his voice though that temper fortunately wasn't directed at his team-mate. "That you, Livy and the Major ain't gonna let anyone put me down like a mad dog? Yeah. I know that." He strode onwards as he continued, various personnel taking one look at the set expression on the Beast's face and melting out of the way. "Or is this gonna be a pep-talk about how I ain't that bad yet, and Omar's just givin' abstract warnings? Or how's about the bit that I'm a decent guy really and that'll help me deal with this 'Taint' shit, with a little help from my friends?" He stopped and looked at Gwyn now, his face stony.

"Look, man. I've got the fuckin' symptoms. There's no two ways of lookin' at it. They call me the Killer and the Beast. I have the multiple personalities, and one of them is a full throttle psycho that loves to kill." His voice was calmer now, a bitter note entering to replace the fading anger. "Yeah? What the fuck do you want, air scout?"

This was directed at an Airman who, whilst passing, had the misfortune to have cocked his head at the two Specialists after overhearing a snatch of the conversation. The man paled and sped up, hurrying into the cafeteria. Dec grinned nastily, his demeanour markedly different as he watched the other man run, then switched his shaded eyes to Gwyn.

"So, I cover all the bases there, or do you got somethin' to add, Jones?" Dec's voice was hard-edged, thrumming with underlying violence and frustration. Gwyn fought the urge to reflexively step back: it was the voice from the General's office.

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"Yeah, I got something to add boyo. Omar was being a stupid twat in there, but he isn't wrong. The points he didn't bother trying to get across that I picked up on in the reports I've read is the timescales. If you don't push your powers it accumulates very slowly, if at all, and you simply don't seem to have the sort of powers that lend themselves to being pushed. I'm in a worse situation than you. I'm the one who might be tempted to push it to fly a bit faster, or go a bit denser. It's not like you can push to be more agile or be more stealthy."

Gwyn looks around and spots a storeroom they could talk in rather than the corridor. "Come on, in there."

Once in the room he continues, "You got the shitty end of the stick when the Artifact did it's work on you. But the stuff it gave you don't seem to be the stuff that is going to make things get worse anytime soon. You'll still be the same, and perhaps better, while you watch arseholes like Vinny pushing his grenades or mortars or whatever he calls them and overtakes you on the road to Taintville."

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'Dec' looked at Gwyn for a long, long moment as he stood in the doorway of the store cupboard, radiating that aura of casual aggression that made the small room seem more closed-in as every second ticked by. It wasn't simply 'a bad mood', the perceptive Specialist noted. This side of Dec was a different animal altogether from the quiet man Jones was used to interacting with. When the stranger in a friend's skin grinned suddenly, Gwyn became uncomfortably aware of a distinctly naked sensation in the area of his throat.

"That's some excellent points there, Jonesy." 'Dec' said, his expression best-described as darkly amused. "The thought of that asshole Wright turnin' into a fuckin' freak's a pleasant one, to be certain boyo." He turned to leave the closet again, then paused, looking over at Jones as if an idea had just occurred to him.

"Of course, no-one has to push the envelope, do they? In fact, it's safe to say everyone's gonna get a 'practice safe power use' lecture that's fine for all your boys and girls. Hell, most folks might not even know that they CAN push themselves." The burly Ranger took one step towards Gwyn, his already harsh voice becoming a menacing growl. "So, unless the Special teams are filled with super-jackasses, Wright not included, they might never need to worry about getting the Old Yella treatment, not like Your's Truly. So y'see, it's a nice little cookie you're throwing me, but there's a flaw in the argument. And one of the handy-dandy little tricks the Artifact gave me, in addition to splittin' my fuckin' personality in half, was to spot the points where things break. Y'know: structures, arguments, plans... People." He chuckled nastily as he said that last.

He turned back to the door and stepped out of the closet. "Look, Jonesy. You're a righteous dude, but don't try to sugar-coat me. I ain't a goddamn bon-bon." He stretched slowly as he emerged into the corridor, then turned to look at Gwyn. "And for future reference, don't drag me off to one side like that any more. I allowed it because it's you and you're a teammate. Don't push that envelope, boyo, cos I'm a fuckload worse than Taint. Consider that a friendly warnin'.'

He grinned in anything but a friendly fashion before looking up and down the corridor. "So, we're confined to base for two weeks due to fucknugget Wright." He took his shades off and tucked them into a pocket, his silver eyes shimmering with terrible life as he glanced back at Jones. "So who do I have ta kill to get a drink around here?" There was something about the delivery that made it seem less a colorful turn of phrase and more a semi-serious question as another couple of Airmen walked past, the two women giving 'Dec' a nervous glance. He stared back, grinning as they accelerated into the cafeteria, then looked over his shoulder at Gwyn again. "More importantly, which way is the Cheyenne Mountain Titty Bar?"

Chuckling, Red sauntered back towards the dining hall. He fancied some hot food, and Jones's heart-to-heart had let his meal go cold.

*Time to get somethin' I can dig my teeth into.*

((Continued in Too Smart))

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