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Now just how did she end up in this situation again? Yes. Now it was all coming back to her. The rest of the bridge bunnies had thought it would be a terrific idea and being a child of New Liberia had settled it. They loved to celebrate and any excuse to do so was a very good one. Christmas was a fun enough earth holiday. It meant getting presents and good food and a whole list of other things. Monique doubted too many people cared about the religious aspect. Well to each their own, because it was a big universe after all.

The other bridge officers just how to get to the small woman. She had a great deal of pride and any perceived threat on it would cause her to act. They commented on how she must not be able to sing at all if her mother made her so upset. Now that was not the case at all and so she had to prove them wrong. The tables and booths around the small, informal stage were decorated with home made Christmas decorations. Some people had come to participate in the celebration as it was a good excuse to hang out.

Monique stood on the small stage in front of the microphone. In homage to the holiday they were celebrating; she wore red from her shoes up to her gloves. Later she might think she had been tricked, but now she would simply sing.

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree,
For me.
been an awful good girl,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa baby, a 54 convertible too,
Light blue.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list,

Santa baby, I wanna yacht,
And really that's not a lot,
Been an angel all year,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Monique had never really bothered to formally train in singing, but she did seemed to have inherited her mother's natural talent. There was also a quality to her singing that went beyond the normal. The young officer was having fun despite being insulted into singing. It was a very entertaining song after all. She even moved across the little stage as the song went on.

Enyo was always interested in learning about new things. It was one thing that had been obvious from her first moments on the ship. She was warily circling a make shift Christmas tree as if it was going to come to life and strike her at any moment. She could not quite understand the poiny of having a tree, that was the word, covered up in shiny things.

The singing finally drifted over and caught the Meltran by surprise. She stiffened up and then finally stopped as the song settled into her brain. Singing made her nervous. It got down inside of her whole body and made every step seem unsure. Enyo tried to look calm about it, but it was a little obvious as she quick stepped away from the stage. She ended up much closer to the pool tables; keeping the tables between her and the song like a shield.

Given how heavily balanced towards the Zentraedi and Meltrandi the fleet that Chorizal grew up in was, there hadn't been much celebration of Christmas when he was a child. Those two warlike races weren't big on celebrations (unless they were victory celebrations) in the first place and they'd never heard of the event that precipitated the religious aspect of the holiday.

Thus, his yuletide experiences were sparse and sporadic, but as part of his recent change in outlook, he decided to go to the Orion's Belt when he heard about the party. He'd even allowed ensign Il-Nasid to place a red paper Santa hat on his head...after enjoying a couple mugs of a delicious beverage called "eggnog."

Fortunately, everyone had the good sense not to giggle at him immediately and a third cup of eggnog was enough to keep him from noticing when people giggled later.

A frown and scowl replaced the strange (for him) grin on his face as Monique got on stage. After all that happened after they'd shown her mother doing the Culture in this very room, he assumed that she wanted nothing to do with it.

But now, here she was, not only doing the Culture, but doing it well. He was one of the people who crowded close to the stage and he glared accusingly at her as she danced around the stage. He was only distantly aware of the seductive nature of the lyrics that she sang.

No sooner would Monique's first number come to an end and fade out than another sound pierced the heavy air in the Orion's Belt, a deep, bellowing laugh that sounded something like, "HEH HEH HEH!" First Lieutenant Winter Kanzaki might not quite have the entrance down, but the costume was impeccable. From the red hat and coat to the old pipe clenched tightly in a mouth wreathed by a beard made of pillow stuffing, to the large sack swung over one shoulder, anyone who caught a glimpse of him might be forgiven for thinking the real Santa Claus had just wandered into the Shogun's crew lounge. Of course, this Santa seemed to have lost a little hair in the back, and a lot of bulk in the midsection. "Well, what do we have here?" Winter addressed the two women who were distributing paper Santa hats at the door, his bearded visage twisting into a grin. "Two of Santa's elves taking the night off to party? Inconceivable!"

Winter handed a pair of small paper cards to Ensigns Il-Nasid and Laville - which read Redeemable for one evening in Santa's Workshop: Deck 3, Room 101 - and the glitter-speckled faces of the two costumed bridge officers lit up as they tittered into their hands. Not wanting to waste time loitering around the entrance, the unlikely St. Nicholas edged his way further into the 'Belt in search of any members of Striker Squadron he could find. He came by Enyo first and tapped the tall Meltran on the shoulder. "Relax, young lady! Heh heh heh! Parties like this don't happen very often on a military ship, so lay back and enjoy it while you can!" His breath smelled faintly of alcohol despite the fact that he had only just walked into the lounge, which begged the question of how he'd managed to sneak a drink outside of the only place on the Shogun where hard drinking was, technically speaking, allowed. "Your commander wanted me to give you this. He thought it would be a nice break from all those boring movies in the cultural integration package! Heh heh heh!" Winter pushed a video disc labeled Fleet of the Strongest Women into Enyo's hands, then melted back into the crowd of partygoers, still laughing.

The next to receive his gift from 'Santa' was Chorizal. The Zentran pilot standing near the karaoke stage was impossible to miss in the crowd with his sheer size and girth, and the only challenge Winter had in reaching him was shouldering himself and his large sack through the throng. "Oh, don't look so sour, Lieutenant Chorizal! Santa has a gift for you as well!" he shouted over the near-deafening din of music and conversation as he set the bag of gifts down at the feet of his second-in-command and rummaged through it. Much like he had with Enyo, Winter pushed a small, box-shaped object into the Zentran's hands, this one covered in festive wrapping paper, then quickly escaped into the crowd. When he unwrapped his present, Chorizal wound find a hand-sized case with a transparent cover emblazoned with the words, In Case of Emergency, Break Glass. Through the cover, he would see a scale model copy of a right wing from a VF-11 Thunderbolt.

Monique finished the song to some applause and some cheers. It did make her feel pretty good; even though she would never admit to such out loud. The other sin the command crew knew just how to manipulate her; challenging her pride to get her to sing. The young woman felt that it had been properly defended. The red clad bridge officer was helped off the stage by a pair of slightly tipsy, but very chivalrous pilots. Monique made her way to the scowling Zentran.

"I thought you would have liked the song, Santa." One glove covered finger tapped Chorizal's nose as she stood up on tiptoes. She was very curious to see what the Shogun's Santa had brought around for the fighter pilot. Monique thought it was weird that some old man would break into your house and leave behind presents, but it was a fun Earth custom. She was glad she knew a little about it.

Chorizal's scowl only deepened as he looked at the present that Winter gave him. He had no idea what it was supposed to mean and Kanzaki was behaving like a fool. How were people supposed to respect his position if the man who commanded him was a joke. It was fortunate that Chorizal's skin is blue rather than green or people might start to think that his heart was two sizes too small.

He was still contemplating the little toy when Monique came up to him. His expression brightened for a moment, but then the scowl returned and was focused on her. He glared at her as though she'd stolen his dinner roll at the mess hall.

"I thought you didn't want to be like your mother," he said accusingly, looking up at the stage briefly and then back down to her. "But now you're doing Culture and doing it very well."

Then, his attention went down to the toy again and he thrust it towards her. "And what does this mean?"

"No. I don't want to be like my mother. I am my own person. Never once did I tell you that I couldn't sing. You're so sweet to think I'm good though." Monique had to nearly climb a chair to kiss him on the cheek. The bridge officer took entirely too much pleasure in doing things that would probably confuse the Zentran.

Monique took the small case and nearly laughing before handing it back. Now she took one of his hands and started to pat it very gently. Monique spoke as if she was explaining something to a child. The young woman was being bad again.

"I have watched you fly, Chorizal. It's something of a Christmas miracle that you bring any pieces of your fighter back at all. It's a joke. When you inevitably lose your wing then you can replace it with this one. Your commander is quite clever even if he causes trouble with all of my fellow bridge officers."

Domerin was not a religious man by any stretch of the imagination. Superstitious, yes - perhaps more so than any other pilot on the ship, but Domerin didn't believe in any gods watching him or higher powers ruling over him. He believed quite firmly that he forged his own destiny, by his own actions and choices and by the strength of his own hands. Nor had he celebrated Christmas in several years. For him, it was just another day. He hadn't spoken to his family, not even his mother, since he'd left the academy, and there wasn't anyone else in his life that he'd felt much like sharing special occasions with... at least not until very recently.

But one thing Domerin never turned up his nose at, was a good excuse to have a nice, hard drink. What else did people do at these kinds of parties anyway?

He had sent a message to Sesha's PDA, asking the doctor to join him if he could get away, but he had no idea if the CMO would be able to get enough time away from the sick bay to come and join him. Nor if he would venture down here even if he could get away. He already made it clear that parties and people aren't exactly his thing.

So he had settled himself into a stool at the corner of the bar where he could see the wide double doors and anyone who entered clearly even with slightly blurred vision, and where the music, be it from stage or jukebox, could enfold him in its charm. He was drinking eggnog, of course - what else did one drink at Christmas time? - and since Tanandi had broken out her best eggnog brews and offered them at a special price, who was he to refuse? Eggnog wasn't quite stiff enough for him though, so he'd made sure Tanadni spiked his with hard whiskey. Needless to say, he was quite throughly enjoying his drink.

It took quite alot for Domerin to get drunk, and he was barely on the way, but he was at least pleasantly buzzed by the time Winter strode into the room laughing like an evil Santa Clause. He couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle at the man as he passed by "You look completely and utterly ridiculous... and it's 'Ho Ho Ho' not 'Heh Heh Heh'." He raised his whiskey spiked eggnog to his lips and took another sip before he added. "Whatcha got in that bag for the likes of me, hmm?" and he arched a single midnight eyebrow expectantly.

And confuse the Zentran Monique did. The kiss would have been enough. He was far from accustomed to such physical interaction from women of any sort. Her words only made him more confused. If she didn't want to be like her mother, why did she do things that her mother did? People were defined by their actions, after all and if you performed actions like another person, you were like that person.

But he leaves that for the moment. He suspects that exploring the subject any more would only leave him more confused and might upset her.

He looks down at the box in his hand contemplating the tiny wing in there and his scowl grows. "It is not funny," he growls. "And it is not big enough. This would not fit on my fighter."

Scott didn't especially believe in the religious aspects of Christmas, but he was certainly a fan of the goodwill, peace, and general appreciative time of year of it, and liked the atmosphere. He also liked giving out presents and receiving them, eating lots of food, and drinking parts.
So, a christmas party sounded great to him - and the excuse to watch his fellow pilots indulge in karaoke and maybe have a go himself after consuming enough bourbon was not to be missed.

Not knowing anyone, his presents were relatively thin on the ground, and consisted mainly of buying drinks for anyone he recognised (and anyone who was cute enough) as they came up to the bar, or he got a chance to speak to them.
He was curious about Winter's christmas presents too, and earwigged as the white-haired CO approached Domerin, moving to stand beside them and join in the joke.

"I'd be suspicious about anything that comes out of Winter's velvety seasonal sack if I was you," he said with a grin. "Merry Christmas though, 'santa'. Sorry I didn't get you anything... although I might indulge you all with the 'gift of song' later on".

"You are entirely too serious sometimes. He like syou and he wanted to give you a gift."

Monique moved and slipped to the Zentran's side; slipping her arms around his. It appeared that she liked walking around with him that way. She started to move along to the table full of various little treats, plenty to drink and various homemade decorations.

"Now you can pour me a drink and perhaps ou can take a turn on the stage. Then again you might need a few more drinks in you to get to that place."

Chorizal wasn't entirely certain that a person could be too serious. It seemed that most people were not serious enough, including, maybe especially Winter Kanzaki. He gave the present in his hand another suspicious look and then the Santa attired XO a disapproving glare before turning his attention back to Monique.

"I should give him a gift, also, correct? Is that not how the tradition works? You give gifts to people who give you gifts."

His expression lightened significantly when she intertwined her arm with his. If one didn't know better, one might think he enjoyed walking around with her that way as much as she liked it. But one would be quite foolish to point that out to Chorizal.

He looked over the table of treats, scanning them as though judging them for their strategic value rather than how tasty they'll be.

"Would you like some of this thick, white liquid or this clear, red fluid?" he asks, drawing up and pouring out a ladle of eggnog and then one of the fruit punch.

"Yes. It is usually how the tradition works. You give gifts to people who give gifts to you. It's considered quite nice and everyone is happy."

Monique's family had celebrated Christmas, but then again they celebrated just about any holiday they could. They were very typical New Liberians; where celebration was an important part of life. Life was serious and people should have as much fun as possible.

She watched Chorizal once they got to the table. The Zentran was an endless source of amusement for he human bridge officer. He took everything so seriously and what he said was clearly what he thought. It was very refreshing considering her own life. Monique looked at the two cups he offered.

"You make them both sound so appetizing. I think though I would like some of that clear, red fluid." She took the glass of punch and sipped at it daintily. "You can have the eggnog."

She turned her gaze up fully onto Chorizal's face. Which was entirely necessary considering their obvious differences in height. "Now what should I get you for this Christmas celebration? Hmm?"

Monique's answer brought a deeper scowl to Chorizal's face. Now he was going to have to figure out what to buy Kanzaki in return for the gift he'd been given. From the glare that he shot the man, it appeared that his planned gift was a slow, painful death for the annoyance.

Chorizal passed the punch over and then looked suspiciously at the eggnog. He even sniffed it a couple times before taking a sip. A strange, uncertain look came to his face and he sipped again. Even then he didn't look quite sure about the liquid, but he continued to drink it.

Her question makes him look at her as though she's suddenly pulled a gun on him, though. If she gives him something, then he'll have to give her something and no only does he have little experience in giving gifts, he has essentially no experience in giving gifts to women. All in all, it's more pressure than he's really interested in taking on.

But, a cunning smile comes to his face as he eyes her longer. "Can Christmas gifts be actions? Favors?" he asks, what passes for coyly for him.

Monique was sipping at the punch as he reacted to her words. Chorizal was no end of amusing and it was very rare indeed that he meant it. One delicate brow did arch with his question. Now what did Chorizal think she was going to do. It was probably more benign than she suspected. Certainly he thought he was being subtle, but the Zentran was about as coy as one of the Shogun's laser cannons. she turned up to look at him very carefully.

"I suppose that you could ask for favors or for actions. It certainly would depend on the favor you ask about. Now just what do you have in mind? Remember I get a gift from you in return."

The bridge officer stepped away from Chorizal and went to look over the goodies at hand. She picked up a few tree shaped cookies and began to nibble on them. They were all very good; sort of surprising considering they were on a ship in the middle of space. The Orion's Belt was quite an impressive place.

Winter issued an irritated snort at Domerin's critique of his Santa Claus act. Normally, he wouldn't have paid it any mind if his performance was inaccurate, but he was just drunk enough to care, contrary to what alcohol did to most other people. He got the impression that the other ace pilot was feeding him a line, though; he'd never heard anyone laugh like "Ho ho ho," before. But in any case, "I'm using... whaddaya call it... dramatic license!" the pirate shot back, holding his unconvincingly-bearded chin high. "I ain't got the right dimensions for the part, either, if you know what I mean, but I don't hear you bitchin' about that."

His unfocused frown, which seemed to be aimed past Domerin rather than at him for some inexplicable reason, eased into an equally unfocused smile when Scott interjected into the conversation. He would never give either man the satisfaction of knowing it by saying so out loud, but on a ship full of people with whom he shared mutual lack of understanding, these two were the only ones he seemed to really be able to connect with. He wouldn't go as far as to say that they were his friends; there was a very real sense on this ship that when the Shogun's mission was over, his interests and those of the UN Spacy personnel would no longer... coincide. That day was a long time away, though, so he was all for enjoying the few good times between sorties as they came along.

"Don't be spreading that piece of advice around the fairer sex's contingent aboard this ship, Valentine," he warned Scott in a conspiratorial tone, his smile curling into a wolfish grin. "Cramp my style, eh?" Winter slid into a seat at the bar and signaled the tender for three glasses, then shirked the sack off his shoulder and began to rummage through it. From the pile of gifts haphazardly packed inside, he pulled out a glass bottle that had truly seen better days, its transparent surface scuffed and chipped by years, perhaps decades, of over-handling. Winter unscrewed the cap and filled the glasses with the bottle's rich, dark brown contents. "I find a little drink goes a long way when it comes to vocal performances. Feast your eyes on this, gentlemen: genuine barrel-aged brandy from the Armagnac region in France. Hors d'age - means it's so goddamn old, no one knows how old it is."

Chorizal's gaze on Monique is just as intense as her look at him. They almost seem to be in a staring contest for a moment before she answers. He may not be subtle, but he's stone faced enough that she'll get no hint of what he means until he actually says it.

Vexingly, she answers his question but then immediately leaves before he can reply. He watches her walk away...and watches her walk away, before snapping to and following. Again, his long legged stride serves him well and he's caught up to her just as she nibbles on one of those little tree pastries.

He begins to speak but then studies the goodies himself. Picking something at random, he tosses a deviled egg in his mouth and chews. His eyes widen at the taste. "This is delicious!" he declares, a bit of paprika covered yolk flecking his lip. He stuffs another in his mouth before speaking again.

"I missed the beginning of both the songs you've sung," he says shyly. "I would like to hear you sing a song from the beginning."

Scott grinned as Winter introduced the suitably ancient looking bottle of brandy to the table. He was amazed that something that old could still exist, but then he had a posesstion or two the same. But the Brandy was that much more indulgent.

"Wow, sir" he said in genuine amazement. "You're sure you want to drink that now? Not that I'm complaining. After all, that's one advantage drink has over women - it gets better with age. Where did it come from?" then considering what he'd heard about Winters' background his odd-coloured eyes twinkled with mischief and he laughed. "Actually, never mind. Maybe you should tell me when we've drunk some of it, eh?"
He regarded the stage with amusement as Winter mentioned singing and chuckled.
"Vocal performance, eh? What did you have in mind?"

Domerin chuckled at Scott's comment as he joined the conversation and flashed the other man a wicked sort of grin. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to worry about what comes out of Winter's velvety seasonal sack, I think it's those giggling bridge bunnies back there you should pass that warning on to."

Which, it turned out, was exactly what Winter didn't want Scott to do. He shook his head slightly at Winter's proclamation that he was simply making use of 'dramatic license' and motioned for the other man to join them at the bar. "Well get over here, Santa Twig, and we'll get you fattened up. I'm sure Tanandi would be happy to oblige. Maybe if we run our bar tab up high enough, she'll start giving us stuff for free."

It was somewhat of a shame that Winter didn't think of Domerin as a friend. Domerin had begun to consider Winter as a friend. Aside from Angel, with whom Domerin was fairly close, Winter was really the only one on the Shogun that he felt he could relate to. The man had a good sense of humor, he didn't have a stick shoved up his ass, and he had a solid sense of mischief that Domerin had never really been able to instill into Angel. He wasn't so attached that he would have been upset if he had known Winter didn't quite think of things the same way, but if he was going to seek out someone's companionship in a situation like this, Winter would have been the person he'd have gone looking for. Especially if he wanted to get into trouble.

The expression he gave Winter when he proclaimed the origin of the brandy was skeptical at best. After all, Winter wasn't exactly the most trustworthy person on the ship, and alcohol that old wasn't exactly abundant any more. If someone on the ship had been in possession of that kind of booze, his first guess as to who owned it would have been the Captain, not the space pirate they had 'borrowed' to make a squad commander. Then again, he supposed a space pirate would have been a more likely candidate to locate and procure such a fine brew.

That didn't change his skepticism, though, when he took the first tentative sip of the high profile alcohol. As soon as the brandy touched his tongue, however, his eyebrows shot up again, this time in surprise. "Whoo-oow!" He breathed as the brandy seared a path down his throat and set his stomach on fire. That was some strong booze. "This is some potent shit, Kanzaki." He declared and then added with a wolfish grin, "Give us some more."

"Some'n tells me they're not really worried 'bout anything from Winter's velvety seasonal sack," said Shinjo as he wandered over to the group... from the direction of the aforementioned bridge bunnies, as it were. There was a wide grin plastered on his face, and he was obviously mildly intoxicated. In the place of any sort of regulation head dress, he wore a Santa hat, which he had gotten from... somewhere. Indeed, Ichihara Shinjo observed many of the "traditions" attached to festivities of this sort. He fully intended to go so far as gun taping a wool sock to the door of his quarters before turning in for the night. Although that would probably either just get him yelled at by Major Grant. Or shivved in the kidneys by Viachi. But that was why he was going to make sure he was drunk before he did it.

Anyway, after attempting to play darts, only to have several of them bounce off the wall sort of near-ish to the dart board, everal, in this case, meaning "all", unfortunately, he headed over to where he saw "Santa", Domerin and Scott. "I heard some'n about whore'sed aged brandy an' decided I should head over," he said by way of explanation before Chorizal made his declaration about something being delicious. "Chorizal, you're my hero!" he called across the room, then took a seat with the rest of them. "That guy's good people... 'cept his mother di'n't love 'im enough, so now he's a big douche'r some'n."