Do Space Marines Dance?

Posted on Tue Sep 8th, 2026 @ 2:14pm by Commander Alex Flynn & Advisor Ramielos Volsunga

1,913 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: UnderMind [4]
Location: Volsunga’s Quarters - Lower Sphere, DS13
Timeline: Evening - MD08

A week after their visit to the holodeck, Alex had found herself in the lower sphere near Volsunga's quarters with no further plans. She’d had plans until Thari had cancelled on her to go and observe some strange thing that horrible brain bug they’d captured below was doing. She stopped by and hit the chime, curious as to what he was doing if nothing else.

"Enter." He called from his position in the middle of the room, and the doors parted. The visitor could see that he had added a screen on one of his walls, he was using it to review some of his most recent reports.

"Hey. If it isn’t the hero of Dreizhen III. How's it going?"

"What is the it in that sentence?"

"Your experience as a sentient being."

"Oh. It is acceptable."

"I've always said my presence makes existence that little bit more acceptable."

"That is an unusual thing to say, I think."

She let out a half-laugh half-disappointed sigh. "You got plans tonight? You want to go see something you've never seen before?"

"What unseen sight do you refer to?" Volsunga asked.

"I was thinking we could go back to the holodeck. You seemed to like it." Alex said.

"I have visited many times since. I understood that booking was required but others seem to leave and cede their booking to me as soon as I enter." He said with confusion.

"Oh. Maybe do the booking from outside if you want to avoid that. I don't think people know you well enough to know you're just looking around. Even after your heroics below."

"This is a fear response? I assumed it was just your servile culture... and I did not realise bookings could be made from without." He said.

"Yeah, all the computer systems are linked. From jobs for civilians to daily menus in the mess halls. You think we're servile?" Flynn asked in her best amused-but-insulted tone.

"You feed the hungry, cure the sick, regardless of their value to your society. You offer aid to all who seek it and accept refugees by the millions. Your mastery over antimatter annihilation and atomic reconstruction allows you to overcome the balancing predatory forces of other universes."

"You mean replicators and warp drive?"

"Yes."

"You don't have warp drive?"

"The warp as we experience it is the domain of Daemons and nightmarish creatures beyond classification. Many go mad in the crossing alone, if daemons don't manage to infiltrate their souls. It is the only way to travel between stars available to humanity."

"Oh. Yeah we just use alcubierre principles. Very few demons." Alex said in a way she intended to sound comforting. "Do you think I'm servile?"

"No more so than any other of your Federation. You are commanding and engaging, as an individual."

"Ha. Thanks. Well, if you're all holodecked out, have you been to the promenade? Maybe get a drink, something to eat?"

"I have already consumed a nutrient slurry. I was not intending to eat again for another hour."

"Nutrient slurry? That's what you've been eating?" Alex said with a combination of disgust and disbelief.

"It fulfills all my nutritional needs, with some supplements. And your replicators are unable to manufacture carbo-triglyceride gel or fortified amino-porridge." He said with genuine unawareness of why it would not be an optimum choice.

"You can do better, boyo. Come on. Get your going outside clothes on." She wondered too if the modest newfound fame he had discovered as one of the heroes of the Dreizhen Bug mission had done anything for his social inclinations.

"I do not have other clothes. Other than my armour, which your engineers are still working on."

"Oh. Well the replicator can make those for you too, you know. What do you wear back home? Other than your armour."

"Robes. Tunics. Simple clothing."

Alex nodded, moving to his replicator. "Computer, replicate a tunic and pants in Mr Volsunga's size. And some sandals." She turned back to him briefly. She considered asking him if he was a boxers or briefs guy but knew that would be a whole other conversation. "And some underpants. Comfy ones."

"You expect me to wear these?"

"I don't expect it. It's an option. If you don't like them you can put them back in and replicate new ones. Otherwise you can wear them later if you want to stay in what you've got on." Alex suggested, leaving the folded pile of freshly replicated clothing on his table.

"Alright." He said, immediately undressing.

Alex turned away with Command-level decorum, moving to look out the window he'd added. It was an actual station view. Dreizhen III was coming into sight. "Just a heads up, some people find sudden nudity confronting, it's usually best to keep your clothes on in company. Unless it's company you've agreed to get undressed with."

"Have I offended you?" He asked as he pulled the tunic over his head.

"Me? Oh mate, you couldn't offend me with an electrified offending machine. I'm Scottish, we're immune to such things."

"You told me you were human. And I do not know this device." He said with that confused but sharply recollecting expression he often found himself making in discussion with her.

"What they don't have scots in your Imperium? Jesus. Does nobody where you're from have an accent like mine?" Alex asked.

"I have met some guardsmen who speak in that way. I do not know where they were from."

"Well, that's a relief, something remains of Scotland after all in your horrific nightmare-future." Alex said, acutely aware that she had just insulted his reality. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." He said, shifting in small ways to let the clothing adjust. "These clothes are acceptable."

"Fantastic." Alex said, leading out the door.

The centrepoint promenade was perhaps the least developed, but there were still numbers enough for it to have businesses open at every time of day. It was after all where all the six outer dock walkways converged, between the upper and lower docks.

"What's the best thing you've ever eaten?" Alex asked spontaneously as they passed a Bajoran restaurant.

"Once after a battle on Intidus III, the chapter-serfs roasted local the local cattle for a victory feast. There was something about their flavour that never left me." Volsunga admitted quickly.

"Oh, so you do celebrate? It isn't all gruel and suffering?" Alex asked, surprised to hear this new layer of experience.

"We celebrate when we have cause. Otherwise, we consume only what is essential." Ramielos told her.

"Well, we try to enjoy our lives while we can. And you have that option now too. Here, this place has booths." Alex said, gesturing towards one of the better public replimats. There was a single Ops staff member at the service desk watching one of the screens tuned to races on Bolius.

Alex approached the replicator alcove. "What do you want?" She asked Volsunga.

"What would you suggest?" He asked, confident they wouldn't have the beasts they roasted from the wilds of Fenris in their system.

"I know just the thing." Alex said, tapping the command screen on the alcove so that the back of the replicator retreated back to allow for a significantly larger order than usual. "30-hour smoked full beef leg." Alex told the machine, and it took about a minute for it to replicate the entire dish. With both hands and a bit of skill, Alex transferred the 45kg platter of meat back to the table.

"This is beef. Very popular here. Sorry if it's too much. Or not enough. You can always have seconds." She said, wondering as an afterthought if she should have also got him a few kilos of vegetables too.

"It smells good. How am I supposed to eat it?" Volsunga asked.

"Grab. Bite. Chew. Swallow. You do know the basics, right?" Alex asked.

"I do." Volsunga said, lifting the leg with ease. It seemed like the meat might slide off the bone, but it remained secured. He took a bite out of the large leg, and chewed it, savoring carefully. It was remarkable. "This is.. very good." He said, taking another mouthful. Then a third. Soon without realising the lack of decorum, he was tearing into it with his jaws.

"The real thing would probably be better, but I'm thinking we might need to give the restaurants advanced notice if you're coming, both for seating and stock purposes." She passed him one of the napkins she'd replicated. Maybe a bib would have been a better choice. She stood up and replicated herself a burrito, and they ate in silence. At least, they weren't talking, he was noisy. When she noticed he was done, she spoke again, leaving the unwanted other half of her dinner on her plate. "Other than your post-battle feasts, did you never in your life eat anywhere just because it was good? Do they not do that in your universe?"

He put the scoured bone down, and wiped his hands on the napkin, though it barely made a difference before the entire thing was soaked with drippings. "I don't remember much from before I joined the legion. The training makes you forget most of your life as it was. But I remember once, when I was very young, eating something as people watched. My parents, I think. I don't really remember them either. But there were candles. Not prayer candles, just little ones on top of a colorful cylinder. It was food. I blew them out. And we ate the cylinder in slices. It was good. I think." His eyes were bleary, like he was seeing through the mists of time to something distant and ephemeral.

Alex let out a little huff of a laugh, and couldn't help but smile. "Sounds like a birthday cake. So not everything that makes the 25th century worth living in is gone in your time. So, was that.. enough?" Alex asked.

"Yes. I am sated." Volsunga said. He didn't want to admit that he had perhaps overeaten, but his metabolism would make short work of it.

“Phew. Any more and I’d have to ask Chief Gaz for extra rations. How would you like to take a walk on the promenade? Maybe go watch some music?” Alex suggested. “Of course we can sit here for a while longer if you want. No need to go right away. You’ve got a bit of digesting to do, I’ll bet.”

"Music?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

“Music is like food. It can nourish and uplift. Of course it can also depress and bore, but that’s part of the fun. Finding what you do and don’t like. They do have music in some form where you’re from, right?” Alex asked. Surely he had monastery chants and hymns to the Emperor, if nothing else.

"Hymns. Choirs. War chants. They are meant to venerate and inspire zeal and courage." Volsunga answered simply.

“Hm. Guessing you don’t dance, then?” Flynn asked without expectation.

"No." Volsunga said honestly. It wasn't that he had any specific opposition to the idea, it just hadn't ever happened.

“Well, I read there’d be some Bossa Nova down in blue sector later. Maybe that’ll get your toe tapping. Come on, let’s go find out.” Alex said, gesturing for him to follow as she stood.

"Alright." He didn't really understand what she was talking about, but followed anyway.

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