A young man marched into the Grill, his conspicuously bare uniform identifying him as a Primary Fleet Recuit. He still walked like one, the precison drilled in at West Point not yet worn away by reality. Nor had the brutally short haircut. The mans brown hair had only just regained sufficient length to be known as such. His name tag identified him as Ripper.
David Ripper wore a curious badge on his breast, it consisted of two crossed Army-Issue Pulse rifles, differing from their marine counterparts in that they lacked the advanced sighting equipment. They were Infantry weapons, pure and simple. The marksmanship medal was unusual amongst Navy personell, it was a rare fighter pilot trained in any form of Infantry combat. However; it was reasonably common among Liberty Army troopers.
The Recuit casually grabbed a beer off a passing waiter, nearly dropping it upon seeing the Captain. Ripper threw the man a crisp salute, at the same time intercepting his tumbling ale.
"Sir. What's going on over there?" The junior officer jerked his head toward the slightly inerberaited Matt.
David grinned, sipping his ale, he couldn't have picked a better time to turn up.