Lieutenant Harrell collapsed in front of the heavily-shined bar. He removed his hat and ran his free hand through his freshly-shorn hair. One of his Purple Hearts tinkled against another as he did so. The Marine commander had never liked his dress uniform all that much; it was one of those items of military formality he seldom had patience for. But regs were regs, and if the brass wanted him to dress up nice whenever he went off for leave, he'd do it. Whatever the case, he simply hadn't had the time to change out of the tight and uncomfortable uniform. He rested his hat - adorned with the gold cord of a Special Commander - and spoke up. "A round," he said.