[center]Interacting with: [@Eisenhorn] [@Irredeemable][/center]
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It had been a productive haggling session for Private McDinny. Having traded the weight of her medals and obscura for some credits, the shrimp of a guardswoman was in a fairly good mood. Sure, the oh-so-legal traders hadn't carried any alcohol on them - apparently they'd already bartered it all off to other guardsmen - but Charlie did nick a porn mag that had been left unattended by one of the men when he had gone to refill his recaf. Such magazines were a currency in and of themselves. The one she'd nabbed had a cover that looked exactly like that of [i]THE IMPERIAL INFANTRYMAN'S UPLIFTING PRIMER,[/i] so it had the added benefit of making whoever was reading it look dutiful as they enjoyed themselves.

It was as McDinny was scanning the contents of the 'primer' and finding its contents sadly lacking anything for the female gaze that she felt a familiar tingle in her forehead.

Private McDinny always got tingles when something interesting was happening. Of course, 'something interesting' could mean the sort of situation that demanded hiding inside of a closet, such as when thugs were hunting for her, when mortar shells were dropping, or when the Commissar was in a particularly bad mood. But there was also a tingle in her forehead that McDinny got when the [i]fun[/i] kind of interesting was happening, and that good tingle was sure a-tingling as she left the troop transports.

Not one to want to miss out on anything fun going on, McDinny made her way around the troop transports, around the hab units, and eventually saw a fire in the distance. It looked like there were people (and a growing number at that) jumping around, laughing, talking, and drinking. That last part was what piqued her interest, and Charlene realized [i]that[/i] must have been where all the booze wound up. Properly motivated, it didn't take Charlene long to join the party.

It was definitely the sort of party McDinny had been hoping for after the parade.

There were all kinds of different guardsmen present, though the figures at the center of the show seemed to be big, burly, tribal-looking men with the sorts of bodies that McDinny wouldn't have minded finding inside the porn mag she'd stolen. There was alcohol, and a lot of it; always the sign of a good party. There were stories being swapped, warm campfires (which [i]weren't[/i] made in burnt-out, busted trash barrels!), and lots of faces with genuine mirth on them. Even the awful little scamp was able to relax. McDinny normally was tense about most situations surrounded by people that could throw her across a field like a nob could hurl gretchin, but something about the air and the faces that she saw made her feel calm. Well... [i]calmer,[/i] anyway.

For once, McDinny didn't steal anything or cause any mischief. The mood was too sacrosanct. She went from group to group, listening in, drinking whatever she was offered, and grinning like a fool. Eventually, she came upon a group of confused looking tribals trying to understand what the [i]Hell[/i] a greasy, bow-legged, octopus-haired boogieman was garbling at them.

Being a greasy boogiewoman herself, McDinny came to the rescue of the tribals, thrusting a lho-stick at the friendly voidsman.

"First one's free!" the small guardswoman chimed in cheerily. "Second one'll cost ya, ya ken?"

As she spoke, the private turned toward the rest of the group. "Dirtyboy here's just musing about how right cheery it is to not have a trigger-happy Commissar squinting at us while the kegs and bottles are popped. He was a-wondering if perchance you chums might want to play some cards or if anyone's been on a big spaceboat'r summat.

"Oh, and by the way," the huckster added, "might some'a you gentrified individuals be a mite interested in acquisitions?" Without waiting for a response, McDinny starting pulling the mostly legal objects out of her flak vest. The porn mag, the mess kit, silverware, scrap metal, extra duct tape, lho-sticks... "I got the goods, I do!"

Really, there was no good reason for a simple guardswoman's uniform to fit everything she was pulling out.