"You're not too bad yourself, Nyssa," he shot back as he lifted the drink in salute and then sniffed it deeply. The aroma hit him like a shockwave, and he teetered a bit before his ass even hit the padding of the stool. "Oh, fucksake, boss. Do you always treat your new guys to a glass of asari whiskey on their first night?" That was, of course, a shot in the dark. He had no clue what was in the drink, or even what it was. But purple, slightly luminescent, and just the odor could send him reeling? What else could it be? He lifted his glass to hers, clinking them carefully. "The first of many." Then, perhaps making the biggest mistake he could have at that point, he put the glass to his lips and drank the entire thing in one long pull.<br/><br/>From there on, Cole could not have faithfully recalled the events of the night. He recalled setting the glass down, gasping as the alcohol burned his throat, and croaking for more at the crimson-tattooed turian. He definitely exchanged a look with the commander that resulted in him laughing his ass off, aware of his mistake in painful detail. And the second drink came, along with a warning to take it easier this time. Advice well-intended, but barely followed. Whatever the stuff was, it got into his system very quickly, and within thirty minutes he had gone from sober and amused to quite drunk and uproarious.<br/><br/>Underneath his blithe acceptance and positivity, he knew the truth, after all. He had been hand-picked to suit up, ship out into the unknown, and die. Who wouldn't want to indulge in a bit of toxic escapism in the face of such bleak reality?<br/><br/>When reality did return to him, it was not gently. He woke up with a groan and a tiny convulsion, instantly covering his eyes from the blinding light he was exposed to. "Oh, no," he groaned, convinced he was trapped in some kind of biotic warp field that was specifically ripping his brain apart. "Ohhhh, fhn, oh, urk..." He rolled over and vomited, hardly paying attention to where it landed, though once he'd had his upheaval he felt--well, not better, but less bad.<br/><br/>"Oh, that's nice," said a curt, disgusted voice. The voice was deep, and either Cole was still drunk or it had a slight reverb to it that could only mean turian. He looked up, squinting through the truly blinding lights, and found said turian standing nearby. Cole was laying on one of three medical cots, and surmised somewhat readily that he was in a medical facility. Probably the one on the Anzio.<br/><br/>Cole plucked up the wherewithal to ask the prim turian where he was, though what came out of his mouth when he opened it was just more vomit. The turian groaned in disgust and stepped back, waving the clipboard in front of his face as the tiny plates on his nose scrunched together. "AIDEN, could you activate the hazmat scrubbers, please? By the gods, these humans..." He left Cole to sit up as the ship's AI deployed a number of nanobots across the floor, containing and eliminating the mess before it could spread. One thick finger punched a button next to the door. "Commander Amari, this is Warrant Officer Iulian. You wanted to know when Lieutenant Vanes was awake, ma'am. He is. And he is vomiting all over my sick bay. I must once again file an official complaint<i>against</i>your mandate to take new recruits out to Purgatory!" Cole's interest and attention petered away as the turian began to list a number of precise and specific regulations that the commander had violated, or might have.<br/><br/>Instead, he focused on standing. He wasn't naked, but nearly so, wearing just a pair of underwear that he<i>definitely</i>did not own. "Oh, my god," he whispered, leaning back against the cot. "Oh, what the hell happened?" The turian turned, his tirade interrupted, and marched over to scan Cole with his omni-tool.<br/><br/>"You drank well beyond your threshold, is what. I don't know what Nyssa gave you, but she gave you far too much of it. To my understanding you drank two full glasses of it within twenty minutes, then proceeded to dance aggressively for another two hours. When you were finally returned to the ship you declared an urge to--and I am paraphrasing--copulate with the new tank, at which point you removed all of your clothes and made a direct line for engineering. Fortunately you passed out before you could copulate with anything, and thus you are here."<br/><br/>"Whose underwear do I have on?"<br/><br/>"Talyet's. He was kind enough to, ahem, handle you once you had lapsed out of awareness."<br/><br/>"Please don't tell me that the drell fondled my dick while I was passed out."<br/><br/>"Sir! Please! Use appropriate language while at my station!"<br/><br/>"You didn't answer me."<br/><br/>"I suspect the commander will want you at attention within short order, Mister Vanes. I suggest you get dressed, and while you're at it," he deposited two pills into Cole's hand, "take these with straight water--NO alcohol! You'll feel better in no time."<br/><br/>"Did Talyet touch my penis?"<br/><br/>The turian didn't answer as he marched stiffly out of sick bay, mandibles clicking as he went. Cole stood upright with a groan, squinting at the pills. "Welcome to the first step into forever," he muttered, and began to shuffle out to the kitchen to get the water he needed. By the time he got properly dressed--Talyet's drawers were placed on a hook, that they might be returned later--his head was feeling much better, and he got another glass for himself, along with a ration biscuit to help cushion it all. He sat at the long table, dully eating and drinking, trying unsuccessfully to recall any of what he'd been told had happened.