"Son of a bitch!" One of the Marines shouted, slamming his hand on a table. It was only moments after the Corporal had headed out the door, Quincy was sitting back in his chair with a small smile on his face. The Marines around him were huge, and still quite massive compared to him. He had the type of physique which could hold up against theirs, but he lacked pure size, he was just... generally smaller, despite his fitness level. Regardless, he had just played a Royal Flush and called the bluff of one of the other players. How did he get that flush? Very, very carefully. It took him years of practice and a few small-time failures to learn how to gamble with the odds being on his side. Luckily, they set a limit on how high the pot could go and so he hadn't won anything. The translator stood up with a small smile, taking the credits for himself, "You can't honestly be mad at me because you thought that your three-of-a-kind for 9s was better than what I had. You play that risk when you pull a trick like that, sir," The man said with an eyebrow raised and a small, smug smirk on his face. The other guy just grumbled, clearly sour after his loss.
Quinten knew he had to be in the same place as the corporal. However, he was graced without the requirement of walking, as luck would have it. He owned his own personal vehicle, an ATV, for personal use. They were military-grade when he used them, but he was allowed to take them out as long as he had somebody to take them back to a garage. His was parked just outside. "Sumner, you wanna come with me, I need somebody to bring the ATV back once I'm up there," He asked as he crossed his arms. The Marine merely nodded. Despite the fact that Quincy was given no official rank, he still had his authority and areas of jurisdiction. His feats for the Federation were absolutely legendary, as he was one of the key peacemakers in the war effort and an absolute asset for his language and communication skills. He'd been trained and even deployed with squads to certain places. Though he wasn't often geared for full-blown combat, nor expected to engage in it, he was still given the necessary equipment to defend himself.
He was specifically called to this squad, literally assigned with Corporal Piazzolla as his partner or "battle-buddy." It was more like she was his... escort? Combat aide? Something of the sort. However, the roles may have easily been reversed, as he was not yet fully briefed on the mission, and he could just as well be her translator while she conducted a specific mission. He'd done both, and preferred neither, really. As he and the other Marine hopped on the ATV, he turned it on, his identification being verified as he did so in order to prevent theft or some other mishap with the vehicle from those who they did not belong to, it sprung to life. It wasn't long before the translator was revving the engine and on his way out. He drove quickly... So fast, in fact, that those who rode with him, often avoided ever having to. Of course, he was very safe and very skilled with it, but it just seemed like he was so rushed, which wasn't true (as he enjoyed the thrill more than anything). He actually managed to speed past the Corporal, who was apparently running late, but he didn't kick dirt or dust at her, he just drove beyond, business-as-usual.
He arrived exactly on time, dismounting the ATV as the Marine behind him scooted forward, flexing his fingers. He'd been gripping the vehicle rather tightly, as most did, and it only made Quincy laugh slightly. He stepped past the partition, pulling his holotag-ID from under his shirt and around his neck. It stated that he, as a translator and communications specialist, had top-secret clearance and authorization to pass. The allowed him through, and only moments later a Lieutenant was stepping in as well. "Better damn well be!" He shouted into a device.
Quinten rose an eyebrow, but didn't ask... He honestly didn't care very much. The Captain was soon there and then, a few minutes later, arrived the Corporal. From the sounds of the very short briefing, Quinten figured that this mission would be less one where diplomacy was an issue and more of one where he was the emergency interpreter. This could be fun, he thought as he gave a small smirk.