Remembering

Posted on Mon Mar 13th, 2017 @ 11:28am by Major David Lorenz

After a long day of getting the Marines combat ready for whatever was out there in the big black void, Major David Lorenz loved to go to his quarters, shut off his communicator (much to the annoyed consternation of his pro tempore XO MCPT Wilber Donovan) and relax with a pint of beer. His mother used to say there was nothing better than relaxing with a pint of stout ale after bashing one’s head against a brick wall, dealing with bureaucrats and assholes all the day long. So, after four hours and several pints, there he was, in his living room, in his tighty-whities (to hell with the regs, he wanted to be comfy!) sipping on his latest pint of Budweiser.

The crisp, cool ale slid down his throat, producing a loud, obnoxious belch from Dave, who grinned as he remembered all of the times he and Jim Holbridge had sat around the latter’s house drinking, belching, and generally pissing off Jim’s wife, Tricia. I sure do miss that ornery, hard-headed sonofabitch, Dave thought to himself as he sipped his beer. He had extended an invitation to Jim’s son to join him several times, and the younger Holbridge had always politely declined each invitation, Dave imagined that JD had also included the phrases “fuck off, you Betazoid asshole!” with some of the replies, but somehow they never seemed to reach him, fortunately for the younger man.

Some of the crazier things Dave had done in his life had been in Jim’s company, if not directly with the man himself. Dave had told his friend time and again when he formed the Nebula Gold Security Group that [Jim] was ill-suited to be an administrator, preferring to be in the thick of things. Jim had not disagreed and had managed to keep himself in the field when things got exciting. Somehow, Captain Hawke always had a couple of prime nuggets for NGSG to chew on.

Li Hawke. There was a woman who had the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had just lost her husband to a Borg attack and was off doing God-knew-what with the admiral and his girlfriend, or some damned thing. Jesus, I have only had nine beers and I’m already jumbling facts?! Dave wondered to himself. Some fucking Marine I am!

Dave got up to refill his pint glass, but the angle of the deck seemed a bit off, and as he tried to compensate for the equilibrium lapse, he loudly crashed into an end table, loudly and profanely vowing revenge on the piece of furniture as he fell to the floor. Cursing like he thought a Marine major should, he rose to his feet, swaying as he did so. “Watch where the Hell I am going, table!” he ordered drunkenly. “I am trying to remember my buddy!”

Dave looked to see a holographic emitter containing a message from his friend, but he had yet to play it as it had been the last one Jim had sent before he disappeared into the Nexus ribbon. A part of Dave would always be angry about being left behind, but he knew why and he had made a promise to his friend. “I hope you found yer peace, pal!” Dave smiled, then fell onto his couch, passed out.

Dave wa so deep into unconsciousness he never heard the doorchime. Outside Dave’s quarters, Lt. JD Holbridge waited for a few minutes, then walked away from the door, silently cussing himself for daring to believe that “Uncle Dave” actually gave a shit about him.

Major David Lorenz
One Majorly Drunken Asshole