From the Ashes: Part 2A [Moriarty's History Files]

Posted on Sat Jun 13th, 2026 @ 6:07am by Lieutenant Colonel Jesse Moriarty

3,010 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: Federation Ground Forces Officer Training Facility - Nearby Bar
Timeline: Moriarty's History Files: 2376 (year 1 of training - almost a year after the war)

:: Jesse Moriarty's History Files ::
:: Ground Forces Officer Training ::
:: 2376 - year 1 of training - almost a year after the war ::


Martinez smiled as they walked into the bar. It was close enough to the base for easy access when people had a day pass without needing to get a shuttle ride. It was crowded, buzzing with people, music and the smell of synthahol. The sort of place Martinez found familiar from pre-war years, yet oddly alien too...Earth bars had a different scent than the ones on Mars.

They had dressed for this...comfortable combat trousers that hung a little lower than what they wore on duty, a vest that was a bit shorter and a comfortable jacket. They had gotten their hair cut a few days ago as well, the classic Forces cut, but they had taken the time to style it rather than just comb it back. "Think this will do, Moriarty?" they asked, looking to their side, to the man beside them.

"So long as they have some actual alcohol stashed away..." Moriarty chuckled softly, moving inside all the same as he slid his hand into the pocket of his combats. He'd thrown his old leather jacket on over his dark red t-shirt before heading out...but given his black, lightly curled hair no more attention than raking his fingers through it.

"They usually do..." Martinez said and reached into their pocket, pulling out a strip of gold pressed latinum, raising an eyebrow. "For the right price."

Moriarty's wry smile widened to a full on grin. He nodded firmly, heading straight for the bar, hopping lithely up to sit on a stool. "Tender! We need..." he paused, looking to Martinez with sudden curiosity. "What's your poison?"

"Anything strong, 40% at least, no more than 60%..." Martinez said and slid the strip onto the counter. "Bottle, two shot glasses." They got onto the barstool, hands on the counter, feeling it for a moment. "And nothing Andorian, it's the one thing that I can't take."

"That sounds like a story," Moriarty couldn't help a smirk as he got comfortable in his stool, hooking an arm over the back of it.

"I was 17," Martinez said as they looked at the bartender pulling a bottle from some hiding place. They took it, opened it deftly and poured the shots. "I snuck out to a party...Andorian liquer...and my first hangover that my papi caught me with. He was nice enough about it...put me to work with the garden. Hot sun, heavy work and pounding head..." they looked at Moriarty and winked. "Taught me not to throw up when I felt rough."

"Charming..." Moriarty laughed all the same, watching the tender pour the amber liquid. At least it wasn't neon. That was a good sign. "Can't think of anything worse. I usually just want to curl up and die when I have a hangover."

Martinez smiled, shaking their head. "I have two hypos under my bunk to take the edge off when we wake up tomorrow," they said, a quiet confession. Prepared, as always. Nothing really left to chance, not even a night out.

"Please tell me that's just for occassions like this and nothing more sinister..." Jesse looked to Martinez as he quirked an eyebrow, and the first actual relaxed smile came to him since they'd arrived for training.

Martinez smiled back to him, shaking their head before taking the glass. "Get a few drinks in me and you might find out," they said teasingly, meeting his eyes. He looked...different like this. Eyes shining, the smile softening his face a little. Made him look younger.

"You can leave us with the bottle..." Moriarty assured the tender with a firm nod before taking his glass and lifting it to Mazrtinez. "What should we drink to?"

Martinez took a deeper breath, eyes darkening a little. There was a lot. The dead. The broken. But no. Not tonight. Not in this moment, as they watched Moriarty. "Survival."

He gave a gruff laugh at that, nodding as he clinked his glass to theirs, knocking the shot back. "Survival...oh...hoo..." he let out a long breath at the strength before tapping his glass against the counter three times at the heat.

Martinez knocked it back as well, tipping their head back with it. And grimaced. And then shook their head. "Oh, this is worse than canteen hooch..." they said and looked at the glass, turning it over in their hand. "We should make a drinking game out of it."

"Go for it," Jesse reached for the bottle, carefully refilling it for them. He wasn't especially proud, and he wasn't much for lying either...unless there was a dire need for it.

"Alright...truth or drink then," Martinez said as they smiled, leaning against the bar. It was a dirty trick really, to try and find out more about this man that they had attached themselves to in training. To ask questions and get to know them without any real risk...if a question wasn't liked, well... "Ask a question, either answer or knock back the shot. Fair rules?"

Jesse sighed as he looked to his glass, arching an eyebrow for a long moment. He was going to end up very, very drunk. "Fine," he consented all the same.

Martinez watched him at the sigh but decided not to back down. No matter what, it was a bonding experience. Even if they were both so drunk they'd have to be transported back to the base rather than get there under their own drift. "Why did you join up?"

Moriarty sat back as he watched Martinez, weighing up the damage he could do by answering the question. He finally decided that if they were going to find out, it may as well be now, before they felt too betrayed if they didn't like what they heard. "I wanted to fight the Cardassians," he replied bluntly. "And save my own arse in the bargain. I was part of the Maquis. When they were...put down, Starfleet was offering pardons to those who signed up to fight."

Martinez watched him for a long moment before they nodded. Understanding, really. "Good deal," they finally said, because it had been. More for Starfleet than anyone else. They had seen what the Cardassians had done, seen what the Dominion had done later. And like many soldiers...well, Martinez tried not to judge people's reasons. If Mars had been handed over to Cardassia, they were sure their entire family would have been up in arms, or taken up arms.

Moriarty nodded lightly, pleased they had accepted it, because it wasn't something he apologised for. Not under the circumstances. He wasn't about to offer any other explanations either. "You?"

"Oh..." Martinez looked at the drink, for a moment, then decided against it. Looked at Moriarty instead, a small smile curling their lips. "I knew I wanted to serve, somehow. I went to this...recruitment thing. Different stalls, different departments...Starfleet and non-Starfleet. Talked to the Sergeant they had for the Ground Forces and he just asked me what I'd do in a crisis. I'd been...volunteering a lot around the area, first aid, that sort. He said they needed people like me. And..." they looked away for a moment and shrugged. "That was an impressive thing to hear for a seventeen year old."

"What do you think he meant by people like you?" Moriarty asked softly, rolling the glass carefully between his thumb and finger where it sat on the bar.

Martinez reached for the glass, picking it up. Hesitated. Then knocked it back. And grimaced. Well, might as well break a rule of the game. They refilled the glass, watching it. "I thought it meant someone who would step up and help when needed, who could stay calm in a crisis. Now? I don't know anymore. It was pre-war. Pre...a lot of things."

"I think it means someone with a core of steel," Jesse offered lightly, aware they hadn't asked either way. He knocked his own drink back for good measure, sliding his glass to Martinez for a refill.

Martinez refilled the glass, taking a deeper breath at the words. The steel...had come later, maybe. Not cold steel, just...knowing when to bend to the elements and when not to. They pushed the glass back to Jesse, considering their next question. A small smile came to them. "Next question...name one thing you can't live without in your pack. Non-standard issue."

Moriarty laughed out loud at the question, not sure why, but something about it tickled him. It was such a Martinez question to ask. "A lighter," he said softly. "An old fashioned titanium one with a real flame. It belonged to someone I knew, but honestly? You have no idea how useful a real flame lighter can be."

"I have some idea," Martinez said with a knowing smile, raising an eyebrow before they chuckled. "We had someone who knew how to use bits of broken tricorder to generate enough spark to catch something on fire. But that took...ages. Sometimes, the ancients had the right idea. Fire with a flick of a thumb."

Moriarty nodded with a chuckle as he rolled his shoulders, settling them into a more relaxed stance. "I also usually have a chocolate bar in my pack too. If it goes missing now, I'll know who to go after..."

Martinez watched him at the words, a brief...stab of something going through them. Emergency rations held on your person, hidden away, for when supplies didn't arrive or the day's rations was soaked with rain. Chocolate bar though? That was morale in a wrapper. They smiled at that, small, but it grew as they thought of it. "You might have to boobytrap it," they suggested, the warmth coming to their eyes. "At times I have a sweet tooth."

"More treats from home?" Jesse asked with interest, remembering the drink they'd shared with him on the first day. It had been both rich and sweet. Maybe it was a way of family sending comfort with them.

"Only what I can make," Martinez admitted as they picked up the shotglass. They didn't drain it, just studied it. "But I can make you more...I got on first name basis with the mess cook..." they looked at him, eyes still warm. "Her name is Emmy."

Jesse watched with a glint in his eyes, a small smile of amusement pulling at his lips as he leant closer, as if studying their reaction. "Emmy, is it? How well do you know this Emmy?"

"Not well enough to get into her combat trousers," Martinez said playfully before they met his eyes. "And I think you're more her type than I am, Moriarty."

"Honestly, you never can tell, and I'm not great at telling," he offered Martinez that little nugget for free.

"Ah, I am very good at spotting," Martinez said lightly with a smile. "Your turn to ask a question, Moriarty. See if you can get me drunk."

"Would you like to?" he asked boldly and without apology, sipping just a little off the top of his glass. "Find your way into her combats?"

Martinez laughed as they looked at Moriarty, studying him at the words. "Wouldn't shake her out of my sheets," they admitted before taking a slow breath. "But it's impractical. I learned a long time ago not to pin my affections where they're not returned."

"Wow...I wish I could control my affections so well," Jesse chuckled, shaking his head with a small smile of amusement. He knew what Martinez meant, but it was another thing making it happen.

Martinez tipped their glass towards them, eyes glinting with warmth. But there was a softening in their face as well. "Well...we'll see if that is still true three more shots in," they said with a chuckle. "But as a general rule? I try not to bond too closely, especially with...casual encounters. Still...I like looking."

"You looking at anyone here?" he asked with a sudden grin, mischief glinting in his eyes as he looked around the bar at the options.

Martinez watched him for a moment longer before they put the glass to their lips and drank. It burned all the way down."I'll never tell," they said with a teasing smile. "Ready for more?"

Moriarty laughed softly but nodded, pushing his glass for a refill. "Yes...but don't think I didn't notice you avoided that question by drinking, it's your turn."

"Alright," Martinez looked at him, clearly thinking about it. Considering options for a long moment. "Do you miss your old team?"

"Yes," he admitted openly, seeing no reason to hide it. "And not just the team. I think..." that was when he paused. He took a sip, not to avoid, but to oil the wheels of truth. "...I think I will miss the part I had in it, when I'm an officer."

Martinez nodded in quiet agreement, looking down at the glass. They reached out to take the bottle, refilling for themselves. "How a well run squad has...parts that just slot in. Moving like one being."

"Doing, not always deciding," Jesse chuckled weakly, shaking his head lightly. "Why did you take this leap? Really?"

Martinez turned to face him, searching his face. They couldn't turn the question away. "Because it was the only option left," they finally said, quietly. "I was...close to my squad. When they disbanded our battalion, I lost it. And...I couldn't go home and become a civilian. This...is a way to still serve, but to change the things that I hated. The chaos and lack of understanding from the officers, the coldness of paperwork...and..." they looked down with a slight frown. "Maybe I can grow into something different than what the last years made me."

He leant in a little closer to them, frowning in a way that made him seem pissed off with the world, even if the underlying emotion behind it was compassion. "Don't know if it means anything, but I think you're a pretty great human being at the moment."

Martinez blinked with surprise at the words, feeling heat rise to their cheeks. "Means a lot," they admitted as they met his eyes. "Some days though, you look back and think of what we survived during the war. And what we had to do to survive. Those who didn't...for whatever reason." They looked at the glass, thinking briefly about Diego. Thrown into the war with minimal training, to die on the front to draw the Dominion forces out. They were still angry about that. Not at the Federation. But at the universe and the Admirals and Intelligence Officers who weighed their little brother's life up and found the loss acceptable. "And trying to reconcile that with...what the Federation stands for? Muddy waters..."

"Wars aren't for the people who fight it," Moriarty replied quietly as he looked into his glass, clearly having given it some thought at some point. "It cuts them up and scars them, how can they appreciate the peace after the chaos? It's for the next generation. And they forget the...murky parts, or rationalise them."

Martinez sipped the drink, to wet their mouth more than anything else. And for the warmth of it. "I just...need it to have been for something, Moriarty. More than just a line in space."

Jesse nodded with understanding, letting out a soft breath before knocking his drink back. "I can't speak for others, but for me? Someone has to stand up to bullies...or they'll keep marching over people, until we're all in the dust."

Martinez let the glass turn slow between their fingers, watching the liquid catch the light. "Yeah," they said finally, voice low. They remembered someone who hated bullies, even if he would never have said it out loud. Hated what they did to people. They took a breath, tipped their head, and met Jesse’s eyes again. "Guess some of us learn it the hard way. Then spend the rest of our lives making sure it doesn’t happen again."

"The things those monsters did..." Jesse caught his breath, pulling the thought back and swallowing it down with difficulty. "They had to be stopped. But people like you and me...we don't get to feel the benefit of it. Only the scars."

Martinez watched him, saw the memories in his eyes. They reached out, their hand going to cover Moriarty's. Firm, but not hard. More a reminder that he wasn't alone. "We did what we had to in the war. And now it is peacetime. But peace can be fragile. The Federation will be careful until Starfleet's forces are rebuilt. Could take them years of...dancing around conflict."

"And ignoring dangers," Jesse added, letting out a soft sigh, squeezing their hand with a nod. "So you'll stay to make it mean something."

Martinez watched him, letting out a soft breath. "We will both stay," they said, voice quiet but there was a firm note in it. A promise. "I think if you were not here, I'd...struggle to remember that."

"Same," Moriarty replied openly, shaking his head firmly as he thought on it. "I don't think I could last the course alone with the green kids."

"Well, they're already driving us to drink," Martinez said playfully, looking at him with a touch of humour. But there was meaning there too. They had needed this. To go out, to...be away from that environment and spend time together. "I'll make sure you get through it without losing who you are."

"I'll promise the same, but...I think I need to know more of who you are before I can keep the promise," Jesse teased, motioning to their drink to indicate the game they were playing.


TO BE CONTINUED...


FGF Cadet [now Lt. Colonel] Jesse Moriarty
Federation Ground Forces

FGF Cadet Angel Martinez
Federation Ground Forces
(NPC Morven)

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