"You don't even want a drink? Nothing has to happen."

He was still smiling at her when he said it, and she looked up at him from the console. "Sorry, Lieutenant--"

"Really, Serossa, it's Davin."

[i]No[/i], Sekula thought to herself, [i]it's really not.[/i] Her eyes must have lingered on his longer than she thought, or they held a sharper edge to them than she realized, because quickly he was standing at his full height above her and all but demanding. "So come on; it's no big deal. We're just two Rebels needing to release a little tension and have a little fun before the next fight."

After a quick succession of keystrokes, the quick letter to her sister was complete, and Sekula was standing to her full height of near six feet...a few inches taller than the Lieutenant who was stationed at Vanguard, and likely never saw the field. Her eyes never waivered from the JO's, that stiff half-smile on her pink lips staying right where it was; unphased at the pressure presented to her by the man. "Apologies, Sir, can't--too busy working for a living. Maybe if I ever see you in the field? Thanks for letting me use your console."

The hardest part was not smirking as she turned to show the man her back, and walked off...knowing what he was looking at until he turned a corner and made a quick, soured, face. It was maybe the most irritating thing about being a woman in a male dominated organization such as the Rebel Alliance. Although at least she wasn't alone; the Rebels embraced the role of women far more than the Empire did. And of course they all needed their release and pleasures where such things could be had. Had the right guy asked, say a certain gentlemanly supply Lieutenant JG with pretty blue eyes, Verossa might just jump at the chance...Lt. JG or not.

But he didn't, and instead Serossa was happy to sleep in a real bed with a real shower and absorb as much information and news as she could from Vanguard's networks. That's how she spent her two days, until it was time to muster and gather Replacements. Serossa stood off away from the crowd of Vets, watching the Captain and the new Lieutenants from afar for a few moments before her eyes returned to the Replacements. 

The only time she spoke, was quietly and (mostly) to herself after the Captain spoke, "What is HE talking about? The field is where the Liberators get their kicks, not sitting around this hole of rock and metal." The drunkeness? That was just the guys blowing off steam. And, hell, some of them were better shots when they were a little buzzed, or hungover. Not that she was about to point that out to the Captain.