"You won't be for facing any court marshal for what you say here Sergeant if that is what you are asking."  Warren said reaching across and refilling her glass.  Doing the same with his own once he had sat back into his chair and taken another drink.  He listened patiently with not much expression on his face, that is till the end where he smiled a little and took another long drink.  Filling his glass yet again to fill the silence before letting out a sigh.<br/><br/>"So what you are saying Sergeant, is that if I fuck up in your eyes, you won't be slow to put a bullet in me?"  The LT seemed to bulk up a little there, the muscles in shoulders and arms flexing, he sitting straight, becoming bigger the exact same way animals do when showing dominance.  Paige would recognize it instantly he knew; she was a career sergeant, and read body langue likely better than she read English.<br/><br/>"If that is the case let me tell you this.  I'm better than you.  I'm better then all the men.  That's why I'm the LT. I'll pick up one of you considering killing me before you even know it yourself.  I've dealt with plots of officers who breath deceit and back stabbing like it is there fucking job.  If you think you are more capable than them you are a fucking fool.  And I don't tolerate the sergeants in my platoon to be fools."  Warren put up a hand to silence her if she intended to speak, and if she seemed content to wait he did the same while taking another drink.  He'd refill her glass if it was empty and after sitting down would take another sigh and another long drink before going on.<br/><br/>"So here is how this relationship will work.  I will give you orders.  In the main, I will leave it up to you to get them done in whatever fashion you see fit.  Competence is not what I am worried about.  What I am worried about is when I give orders we both known will likely get men killed.  When that happens, and it will, you will follow those orders to the letter and make sure the men do the same.  If not, I'll find someone who will and you'll be the one with a bullet between the eyes.  We understand each other Sergeant?"  He waited for whatever response she had to that come and then nodded before taking another long drink.<br/><br/>"I don't like sending people to die Sergeant.  And I do it as little as possible.  But we both know war and we both know that sometimes that is the way it has to be.  And though it's tired cliche, it is still a very true one.  You have sacrifice a few pawns in order to get to the king."<br/><br/><div align="center">***</div><br/>"Ain't wrong till ya get caught eh Irish?"  Church said with a grin, coming back again from standing at attention like everyone else, though perhaps he making something of a bigger stretch of it than anyone else.  Clearing some space for himself and readying his muscles.<br/><br/>Temptation was something that plagued Church right now.  The temptation to take Sarah in his arms much like the Sarge did, temptation to beat the living shit out of Irish to state his claim.  Yes, the young soldier was quite tempted to do both those things.  Reason however conquered instinct in this instance.  To approach Sarah in the same way would be doing the exact opposite of what she currently wanted, which he guessed was not be scene as a fuck toy to be tossed around at leisure.  And to beat the shit out of Irish, well to do it to such the extent as to make a proper example would surely put him in the brig.  And likely whipped to a bloody pulp for his trouble. No, this was the time to collect himself and rethink his approach.  To be rash, like every instinct he had told him to be, would be foolish.<br/><br/>“How about drink?  Little something to help us all relax a bit?”  Church said nodding for the small group assembled to follow him towards his bunk.  Though they didn’t quite go to his bunk, but the one three over from it.  Where with a long stretch and bit of finger work he popped flooring panel and pulled out a bottle of cheap vodka.  Or at least that is what he’d say it was if anyone asked.  Truth is it was shit moonshine made up by someone in the engine room of this heap of a ship.<br/><br/>“So who’s up for a drink?”  He held up a few metal cups and the bottle.  Not waiting for answer he started pouring and handing the stuff out.  When he doing so he actually thinking, this might be a worse idea than starting a fight.