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STSF Corizon

Of Dogs and Pater Familia

Tug leaned back into his seat and looked at the young… male… enlistee in front of him. “So your mother’s a Captain.”

 

“Yes,” the curly, raven haired boy said. “Why is that important?”

 

A wry grin surfaced on the slightly weathered face of the blonde-haired Master Chief Petty Officer who served as the Excalibur’s COB. “Oh, I am just wondering how a brattling with that pedigree ended up down below with the rest of us dogs.”

 

Augustus Quintus sighed and leaned back into the slightly firm chair of the COB office on the third floor of the Excalibur. He’d noticed that the chair was much harder than those in the senior officer’s offices—not that he’d like sat in one of them or anything. He also noticed how much more barren the room was than those of the aforementioned. Apparently, so he’d heard, this Tug Johnson wasn’t much for adornments or frivolities and he doubted his mother would approve—there didn’t even to be a sign of hidden liquor in the room.

 

“She’s most certainly not happy about it,” he said with a slight hint of triumph in his voice. It was true. His mother had all but threatened to hunt him down and drag him ‘kicking and screaming like the little ninny he was’ back to the Villa when she found out that he’d run off and joined the fleet—as an enlistee.

 

Tug tipped his head slightly. “So you’re an enlistee by choice? Well that explains much.”

 

Augustus wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He chose a neutral tone, “oh?”

 

Sighing, Tug leaned forward. “Well unlike most of the other Yeoman and enlistees you’re only here because I am sure Mommy wanted you to do something you didn’t want to do and you’re just trying to ###### her off.”

 

The silver-eyed boy blinked. “How did you… erm…”

 

“This ain’t my first trip around the block.”

 

Augustus hung his head slightly. He hated being a cliché.

 

“Well I suppose there are worse reasons to join up,” Tug said letting his frown form into a smirk. “Now, why I asked you here…”

 

“I was wondering if it were to just harass me, sir.”

 

Tug lifted a brow, but decided that was an attempt at a joke. He continued, “I understand you’ve been working in Security, yes?”

 

“Yes,” he replied. “Since I came onboard at Deep Space Nine.”

 

“Your performance reviews have been good, though you do seem to share the trend among younger crewmen of being prone to fraternization during duty hours…”

 

Augustus turned a slight shade of red. “Erm…”

Tug held up a hand and waived the stuttering off. “Like I said, you’re not the only one. Anyway, looks like you’ve caught the attention of the Captain.”

 

Augustus stammered more fully than he had at the mention of on-duty fraternization. Flushing, he managed to get out an, “Uh… um, me, sir?”

 

“Yes, you,” Tug said with a grin. “He’s asked to have you assigned on his regular yeoman’s day off to him.”

 

“Oh…gee…I…uh…”

 

“I believe the proper words you’re looking for are, ‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir.’ or ‘What an honor sir, thank you for this opportunity, sir’ or some facsimile thereof.”

 

“Right, of course, sir. Thank you sir, what an honor, sir.”

 

Tug hooted in a full stomach laughter for what seemed like a minute before stopping. Augustus sighed heavily. Mother, for all of her overbearing eccentricities, was right about the crass nature of the ‘bellow deck dogs,’ he only hoped her stories about ‘Checkers’ weren’t nearly as accurate.

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