The trade outpost at Prixasis Four was just the short of shit-hole Rhys had expected it to be. The scowl that descended on his face was not at all forced as he sauntered along a promenade littered with the kind of bars that would best be described as back-alley dives anywhere else. Here, they were the premier establishments aboard.

“I’m glad we bought a shuttle,” he murmured to his companion as they turned a corner, looking for the bar they were supposed to meet their new hazard team leader. The place was called Callahan’s… he scanned the names above the doors, eyes narrowed as he tried to find the right one. But half the signs were damaged, or simply not there.

The shuttle wasn’t the only thing he was glad he’d bought along. Bennett fell into step beside him, her saunter more pronounced than his, but despite her relaxed body language, he knew she was as sharp as a tack. And, more importantly, as hard as nails. He’d rarely found a sparring partner who could keep up with him and give back just as much as he handed out. Bennett did, and then some. He was still sporting the remnants of a black eye from their hazard team training the other day.

“I have no idea which one we’re supposed to meet Mason in,” he murmured to Bennett, who gave him a sharp look.

“Wait… our hazard team leader is called Mason?”

He nodded as, three bars ahead of them, a window shattered and a semi-conscious klingon sprawled across the decking in front of them groaning lightly.

“It’s that one,” Bennett said firmly, stepping over the klingon and pushing the door open.

“You sure?” He didn’t wait, just followed her into chaos. It looked like the whole bar was one huge barfight. He ducked as a chair came flying toward them, only for Bennett to snatch it right out of the air like it weighed nothing.

“What the…” he mouthed, looking around as he automatically moved to put himself back to back with Bennett.

They weren’t here as Starfleet Officers, their clothing very much ‘trader standard’. In fact, with her hair braided up like that and heavily tattooed arms on display, Bennett looked nothing like a starfleet officer. Which was good. This lot looked like they’d eat Starfleet officers for breakfast if any were stupid enough to walk in here.

“Are you sure she’s in here?” he bellowed over the din and glared at a grubby… actually he wasn’t sure what the hell the guy was. Some lovechild of a nausicaan and a… squid? Maybe? Whatever it’s particular heritage, it obviously read a world of pain in his eyes, decided discretion was the better part of valour and went to find an easier target.

“Absolutely,” she nodded, standing in the doorway and scanning the bar.  “There’s one easy way to find a Mason. Look for the fight. Oi, Mason…” she bellowed over the din. “Get your skinny arse out here! You still owe me for that poker game at Trevanis!”

Rhys blinked as a woman peeled herself away from the fight and squared up to Bennett. Rhys had seen tall women in his time, but never one like Bennett. Until now. The other woman had the same big frame, her blonde hair back in braids like Bennett and… what looked like engine grease in lines over half her face.

“Lead?” she frowned, then turned and spat blood on the floor, wiping her lip with the back of a gloved hand.

“Frack’s sake, Prime.” Bennett’s face broke into a wide grin. “Please don’t tell me you let someone ring your bell? You’re really letting the damn side down.”

“Nah, I used my face to break his hand, that’s all.” Mason spat some more blood onto the floor, then looked past Bennett to him. “You guys my ride out of here?”

“For our sins, yeah.” Bennett chuckled. “You ready to go, or should I take handsome here for a coffee and let you finish up?”

Rhys blinked, not entirely sure how he felt about being called handsome by someone not his wife. Aaron was the handsome one in their marriage group and everyone knew it. Even so, he couldn’t stop the warm fuzzy feeling spreading through his chest.

Mason turned to look at the chaos behind her, which, he highly suspected, she’d started, then shrugged.

“Nope. I got what I needed. We can go,” she winked at him as she walked past them both. “Come on then, handsome.”

“I’ll have you know I’m married,” he growled as he followed the two women.

Mason chuckled and shot him a look over her shoulder. “So am I, twice now.”

Bennett fell into step as they left the bar. The klingon had managed to drag himself to his feet on the promenade barrier, hobbling on one foot. One look at Mason though, and he took off down the corridor faster than an intergalactic sprinter.

“Twice?” Bennett frowned as they fell into step. “Tarras and…?”

“Veyr.”

“Alliance?”

Rhys brought up the rear as Bennett led the way back to the shuttle, not really following the conversation. It was obvious the two women knew each other well. He was, oddly, pleased about that. He’d noticed that Bennett seemed to be isolated from the rest of the crew. Perhaps another of her own species aboard would help.

Mason nodded. “Contract was up for renegotiation so Illy asked for a favour.”

“Never thought I’d see the day the Veyr extended a contract.” Bennett whistled as they walked through the double doors into the outpost’s shuttlebay. Their shuttle was at the end of the bay. It was old and so nondescript it was practically invisible here, and, more importantly for their purposes, so battered that no one would actually want to steal it.

Their boots rang out on the deck plating as they walked toward it.

“Which one’d you get? Of the Veyr. Male or female?”

Mason shrugged, but Bennett shot her a look and she sighed. Somehow though, Rhys could tell she was enjoying stringing the other woman along. They reached their shuttle, Bennett triggering the airlock.

“Male. Kiryx.”

Bennett stopped just as she was about to duck into the shuttle, her eyes going wide as she looked at the other woman.

“Frack me… Kiryx?”

Mason winked as she ducked in past Bennett. “Sorry, you’re not my type.”

Rhys shook his head as he followed them in and the airlock cycled behind him. Once he straightened up, he offered Mason his hand.

“Commander Rose. I take it from all that, that you and Commander Bennett know each other?”

Mason grinned as she shook his hand, her grip just this side of bone-crushing. “Lieutenant Mason, it’s a pleasure to meet you Commander. And yes, we served together before joining starfleet.”

Bennett chuckled as she dropped into the pilot’s seat and started the shuttle’s engines. “Yeah, she used to be my commanding officer. Just as much as a pain in the ass back then as well.”

“You can talk, lead.” The lieutenant snorted, dropping onto one of the cargo benches opposite, eliciting a metallic groan of complaint. She began to strip off her jacket and Rhys started to look away, until he realised that she was injured.

“What the hell?” he demanded, snatching a medical kit off the wall behind him. “What happened?”

Mason wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the blood covering her side. “Looks like some a-hole managed to tag me in the ribs.” She hissed as she twisted, and a fresh surge of blood oozed down her side. “Yeah, definitely got a little extra ventilation there. Mind giving me a hand, handsome, before I decorate this…” she looked down at the grubby floor. “Pristine deckplating here?”

”Crazy,” he decided, ripping open the medical kit. “You’re all damn well crazy.”

Mason chuckled as she slid to lie down on the bench, holding the dressing he passed to her hard against her ribs as he grabbed the tricorder. “Yeah, sorry commander, you’d better believe it.”

“Great. Just bloody great,” he muttered as he looked at the readouts. He was rated as a battlefield medic but this was beyond his capabilities. “Commander Bennett. With all due haste please. Lieutenant Mason, I’m going to give you something for the pain and to slow the bleeding.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I had a shit load of coffee before the fight. I’m doped up good and proper.” Mason turned her head to look at him, a sparkle of amusement in her blue eyes. “You’re human, aren’t you?”

”I am,” he rumbled, his voice little more than a growl. His wife had trusted him to make the decision on the hazard team leader, and to go collect her… the last thing he needed was for anything to happen to her before he even got her back on the ship.

“Bless! Vix?” she called out, tilting her head to look toward the cockpit.

“Prime?”

”Handsome here thinks I’m gonna die.”

”Chance would be a fine thing. Tankers don’t die, they just get meaner.”